The Yawning Grave
by Amateur Sketch
Summary: Arthur Morgan is alive after fifteen years. He doesn't know why or how but he'll seek the answers he needs while stuck in a small town plagued by corruption. Along the way, he'll make new allies and discover the fates of those from his past.
1. The Rescue

**lol I don't know what I'm doing with this. All I know is that this idea won't leave my head and I need to get it out.**

 **Haven't abandoned my other fics, just got a bad case of writer's block for them.**

* * *

 **The Yawning Grave**

 **Chapter One:**

 **The Rescue**

He looked down with narrowed eyes at the man bleeding out in the water. The body laid partially in the river, his head and arm bobbing up and down. The kid knelt down and looted four-hundred dollars and some ammo off the body and stuffed it into his satchel. Now all that was left was to get rid of the evidence.

The rain from the previous day swelled the river. With a hard shove, the rest of the old man's body rolled into the water and the strong currents took it away, pulling it under and sending it down river.

He looked down at the cattleman revolver that once belonged to his father before shoving it into his holster. It was over. Edgar Ross was dead and his family was avenged.

But why did he still feel empty inside?

Staring at the pool of blood where Ross had been, Jack began to wonder if this was worth it after all. He got what he'd wanted after spending years practicing shooting glass bottles and small game. He let his anger fester deep within himself while pretending he was okay on the surface for the sake of his mother. However, John Marston was still dead. Killing Edgar Ross had not fixed that and Jack still felt a hole in his heart.

 _This is a hell of a time to start having regrets. There ain't a reason I should have remorse now. This is justified, plain and simple. No, it's not gonna bring back my family, but I can rest easier knowing that Ross is rotting in hell._

Turning away from the scene, he looked over the area for his paint mare, Rain. Once he spotted her grazing by the road, he rushed to her and quickly climbed on. The horse gave a snort, annoyed that her rider interrupted her meal. Jack ignored her complaints and gave her a pat on the neck. He told her it was time to go, but as he looked around him, he didn't know where _exactly_ he should to go. Should he travel deeper into Mexico or go back home to Beecher's Hope or maybe head north for a while?

He spurred his horse and galloped away, deciding anywhere would be better than "home".

* * *

Crisp, cool air filled Arthur's lungs and to his surprise, it didn't hurt. How long had it been since he could breathe deeply and not cough up blood? Months he supposed, but then... this wasn't right. Slowly, he opened his eyes and quickly shielded them as the sun's rays nearly blinded him. The trickling of a stream, birds singing, and an elk's piercing call were all around him. He lied against a cedar tree, thinking back to his last memory. Gunfire, John pushing him to keep going, Dutch, Micah.

His head ached as did the rest of his body. He hadn't felt this bad since he got drunk in Valentine with Lenny. Slowly, he opened his eyes again, this time the brightness did not assault them as hard as the first time.

Judging by his surroundings, he was close to Donner Falls, the same place where he found that crazed preacher talking to a god that would never answer him. The same creek where he encountered that man who was searching for the lost Princess. There was a time when Arthur himself tried finding her. He had a few theories as to who and where she could be, but they all led to dead ends. That wasn't his priority right now, though. Right now, he had to figure out how and why he was alive.

"I told you he wasn't dead," a soft feminine voice whispered.

"Who cares," another feminine, yet harsher voice, said back. "We got bigger problems than this guy."

"Maybe he can help us?"

"Help us?" the second voice scoffed. "He can barely help himself."

Arthur turned his head toward the voices. Two women stood to his right at a respectable distance. Both looked alike in many ways. Same height, same slender face, and sea-green eyes. The only difference between them was the color of their hair, the redhead's freckles, and the way they carried themselves. One was a dark red-head, and the other was a light brunette. Sisters, he'd guess.

The brunette glared at him with distrust, gripping her rifle tightly. She wore men's attire with a gray cattleman hat, a dirty white shirt, and dark blue pin-striped trousers with patches on the knees. The red-head wore a more feminine shirt with black riding pants and a pair of boots that were too big for her. Unlike the brunette, this woman was not used to wearing those kinds of clothes. Her face was flushed and her eyes wide as a scared rabbit's. This one wasn't the outdoorsmen type, unlike her brunette sister.

"What are you staring at?" the brunette growled.

Before he could answer her, the red-head gave her sister a light whack on the arm.

"Annie, behave!" she chided. She turned her attention to Arthur and said, "I'm sorry about my sister. She isn't the biggest fan of strangers. I'm Mabel Pike and this is Annie Pike. Are you all right? I didn't think you would make it."

 _How long was I layin' here?_ "I guess so. I... don't know what happened... I-" What could he say that was believable?

"At least you're okay now," Mabel said.

Using the cedar tree for support, he stood up, the dizzy feeling increasing. He wanted to lie back down, but he forced himself to stay standing.

"You don't look well, mister...?"

"Morgan. It's Arthur Morgan," he replied.

Annie gave a frustrated sigh and said, "We don't have time for this! Molly is still out there and she could be hurt real bad."

"If you have to go, then go. I'm not stopping you," Arthur replied. He could see the worry in Annie's cold eyes. He set aside his annoyance for the girl, knowing that her hostility was a mask to hide her true feelings. "Look, if you need help, I can lend a hand."

Annie was ready to protest when Mabel stepped in front of her. "Our sister is missing. Days ago, she went out to pick flowers. I guess she strayed too far because some outlaws found her and ran off with her. We tracked them down to this area but now we're lost. We' don't know this place very well. Could you please be our guide, Mister Morgan?"

He saw their eyes full of desperation and knew he couldn't turn them away.

"I know this area like the back of my hand. Come on, we'll find your sister." _Of all the names... it had to be Molly._

"Thank you! I promise I'll find a way to repay you!" Mabel said.

Annie nodded.

Out of habit, he whistled for his horse, Ginger, but when he didn't hear the drum of hooves or her excited whinny, it was a painful reminder that she died. Thinking back to the last fight with the Pinkertons, he felt regret over leaving her behind, even if there was nothing more he could have done for her. He'd forever miss that gentle but tough mare.

After a few moments of silence, Mabel asked, "Where is your horse?"

"I lost her recently," he confessed. "I guess I'm still not used to it."

"You must borrow mine then," Mabel said. "Annie, can I ride with you?"

Annie rolled her eyes and gave a huff. " _Fine,_ but I don't know why you're trusting him with Regal."

The sisters whistled for their horses and two sets of hoofbeats steadily approach the trio. A red chestnut Suffolk Punch and cremello gold Thoroughbred weaved through the trees and skidded down the slope to reach their riders. The Thoroughbred acted skittishly, not used to such rugged terrain. This one must be Regal, he thought.

Mabel took the reins of Regal and placed them in Arthur's hand. "I'm placing my horse in your care, Mister Morgan. I trust you won't run off with him?"

"I don't have a reason to."

"Let's go then," Annie said.

They mounted their horses and rode along an old trail with Arthur in the lead. Regal spooked often as Arthur navigated the horse through the forest. He found himself constantly reassuring the poor animal everything was okay, and it made him question why Mabel thought it was a good idea to take this dainty horse out onto such rugged terrain if it wasn't prepared for it.

"You ladies have any idea where she's at?" Arthur asked as they crossed the road.

"We got word there was a band of outlaws hiding out on an abandoned reservation," Mabel answered. "We've been running in circles for hours and I'm afraid it's too late."

"All we gotta do is try. Come on, I know where the reservation is." He spurred the horse as he took a right. "If you don't mind me askin', why ain't the proper authorities handlin' this?"

"'Cause the sheriff of Empire is a goddamn crook, that's why!" Annie growled.

"Language," Mabel warned.

Annie ignored her sister and continued. "Sheriff Grady, Mayor Brown, and Father O'Malley are as crooked as they come. All of 'em got the town under their thumb. Townsfolk are scared to even breathe wrong!"

"Where is Empire?"

They were getting closer.

"Empire, Ambarino is to the north of here, passed the Grizzlies. Was an Indian trading post, twenty-five years ago but since the whites took it over, they sent that tribe to Oklahoma. Sad business. Anyway, the outlaw gang in question are in with the sheriff. As long as they share a cut with Grady and Brown, they'll keep turnin' a blind eye to the criminal activities."

He wasn't surprised to hear this. Everywhere he went there was someone high up who abused their position of power in some way. Empire sounded like a place he wanted to avoid.

"We're gettin' close," Arthur said quietly. "Let's leave the horses in the trees. Ladies, you might want to wait here."

The sisters ignored him and withdrew their weapons, rushing past him and taking cover behind a rock. Their determination didn't surprise him but that red-head wouldn't last long in a fight. Maybe she'd use her common sense and stay back while he and Annie went after the girl.

Crouching down, he moved behind a rock opposite of the women with Granger's revolver ready. He glanced their way and watched as Annie withdrew three throwing knives. Arthur counted ten men as far as he could see. Who knows how many were on the other side.

All the bandits dressed in beige duster coats with black hats. He had never seen these men before. Must be a new gang, he thought. They would never last, though. Most didn't.

Annie looked in Arthur's direction with a look that said _ready when you are._ Arthur gave a nod, signaling for her to move. The dagger spun and sliced through the air, striking its target in the back of the neck. The outlaw groaned and fell forward, making a thud as he hit the ground. Arthur froze, waiting for the others to be alerted, but when two men standing by crates didn't react, he and Annie moved in with Mabel staying behind.

Annie drew the dagger from the man's neck before continuing towards the crates. She took the left and Arthur took the right. Swiftly and silently, they dealt with the outlaws and dragged them behind the crates, out of their comrades' line of sight.

"Which way now?" the girl whispered.

He motioned for her to follow him to the back of the house where only one guard stood. The bandit held a stick in his hand and cut away at the wood to pass the time whistling _Oh My Darling, Clementine_.

Another silent takedown.

They laid his body against the house and inched their way to the door. So far, so good.

"About goddamn time," one of the men in the house grumbled. "I never thought he'd shut the hell up. "

"So, what's the plan with the kid? Those sisters haven't paid up yet and Grady said two of the girls left home to find more money," another said.

"Don't know. The boss plans on killing her if they don't pay up but Jackson argued last night that we raise the kid ourselves. Said she could become useful."

"How is the snot nose brat gonna be useful?"

The first man chuckled and said, "I know a few ways."

Disgusted was an understatement as to how Arthur felt at that moment. He saw fury flash in Annie's eyes and before he could stop her, she was quick to her feet. She ran to the back door, kicked it open, and opened fire.

"You sick pieces of shit!" Annie roared.

The time for stealth was over.

He followed her into the house as gunfire erupted from the front. A man with a knife was inches from the young woman. She spun around to face him but froze. Arthur shot a hole in the bandit's head, killing him instantly.

"Come on, kid, we gotta finish this!" Arthur said, taking the girl by the arm.

She blinked and looked at the dead men at her feet and cringed. She thanked him and ran for one room where her sister was possibly being held.

"Molly, are you here?" Annie called out.

"Annie, is that you? Is Mabel with you?" a small child's voice cried.

Annie left the empty bedroom and stopped as two men rushed inside with shotguns. She killed the first man who entered, giving Arthur the second man to put a bullet into.

"Molly, don't move until we've dealt with the bad guys!" Annie ordered.

The child stayed silent as more bandits came running inside. One by one they fell as Annie and Arthur fought them off. He was right in that there were more people on the other side of the house. Annie defended the back door, leaving Arthur to handle the front of the house. He didn't keep count of the men he'd killed, but as most of the men fell to his gun, the rest of the bandits but two retreated into the trees.

"The Field Brothers will come for ya!" a man said with a laugh.

"We'll see about that, you son of a bitch!" Annie replied.

A large man with a thick beard aimed a shotgun at her face. Annie quickly moved away from the barrel and shot him between the eyes. He went down, crushing his friends' bodies beneath him. Another man with black hair tried grabbing her, but she dodged him and drove a knife halfway into his throat. When he didn't die as fast as she wanted, she shoved the barrel of her rifle under his chin and squeezed the trigger. She wasn't prepared for the gore that followed and turned pale. Arthur thought she'd grow sick, but she recovered quickly and joined him in the kitchen.

The way she fought those two men with such aggression reminded him of Sadie. Although, Annie didn't seem to get the same thrill from it as Mrs. Adler did.

"Is that all of them?" she asked as she pulled the knife from the man's throat.

He glanced outside then said, "Looks like it. Keep your guard up just in case."

"I know that."

"Can I come out now?" the child asked.

"Let us come to you." In a hushed voice to Arthur, she said, "I don't want her seeing the bodies."

Annie gently pushed open the door and found Molly hiding in the corner. The girl's clothing and face were dirty, her brown hair hung in her face, and she was missing a shoe. She wiped away her tears and gave a small smile for her sister.

"I thought I'd never see you again!" Molly cried. The child wrapped her arms around Annie's neck and silently wept.

Arthur stood at the doorway, unsure if he should be here for this private family moment. When the girl sniffed and raised her head, her wide brown eyes caught sight of him. There was something about those eyes that reminded him of someone, though, he couldn't place his finger on it.

She smiled and said, "I knew you'd help save me!"

He blinked, taken aback by her words. "What?"

Annie stood with Molly in her arms. "Molly, what are you talking about? You've never met this man before in your life!"

"But that's what the gold deer told me. He said he'd send someone to help me and now this man is here helping you get me home. What's your name, mister? I'm Molly Pike."

"It's Arthur, but your sister is right, we've never met before. How would you know me?"

Molly looked frustrated for a moment. "I told you, the gold deer said you'd help us."

"That's enough, Molly. Let's get you to Mabel since she's waiting on us but first," Annie untied her bandanna and wrapped it around the child's face. "Don't take that off until I say so."

He followed them to the horses, stepping over bodies that laid about on what used to be Indian land. He thought of Rains Fall at that moment and hoped the Wapiti people were okay. Maybe if he got the chance, he'd find a way to know how Rains Fall was doing and if Charles stayed with them.

The moment Mabel saw the bodies, he saw her face go deadly pale. Arthur expected her to become queasy, but somehow, she composed herself after a few deep breaths. The moment she saw Annie and Molly, the eldest sister began to cry. Annie rolled her eyes at Mabel's emotional display.

"Will you stop it and take Molly to the horses? I have to do something," Annie said.

"Can I take the blindfold off now?" Molly whined.

"No, wait 'til we get further from this place," Mabel replied.

Annie knelt down in front of the corpse of a bandit and went through his pockets. When she found what she needed, she dropped him and moved on to the next body.

"Good lord, what are you doing?" Mabel gasped.

Without stopping, Annie answered: "Looting for supplies."

"That is disrespectful. Stop that right now!"

Arthur found her to be ridiculous. The woman was afraid of her own shadow he'd guess. Hell, she probably never left her yard much less traveled this far out of town before.

"The girl is right," Arthur said. "If Empire is a ways from here, it's best if we loot their bodies for what we'll need."

He joined Annie in going through the pockets of the dead while Mabel and Molly waited on the Suffolk Punch. So far he'd looted fifteen dollars off the dead men. It wasn't much but was something at least. He found a body lying halfway outside and began to loot it. Annie wasn't far from him, leaning against the house as he pulled a satchel off the body. Going through it, he found a health tonic and snake oil. The snake oil was awful, but it helped him focus better in a fight.

"You done? 'Cause I wanna leave for Empire as soon as possible."

Arthur placed the satchel over his shoulder. "Yeah, I guess we should get out of here."

"Good. I hope you join us. We have a large house and..." Her eyes grew wide, and she gasped. "Arthur, look out!"

He spun around too late as a man with a bullet hole in his chest stuck him hard across the head with a metal object. He didn't go unconscious instantly like the last time someone knocked him out. Instead, he stumbled a few steps and fell over. The world spun around him and his hearing muffled. He could make out Annie's screaming followed by gunshots. He wanted to move and help her, but couldn't.

As his vision blackened, he couldn't help but think: _That didn't last long..._


	2. Welcome to Empire

**Okay so just to get something out of the way, the black wolf in this story is not the same black wolf in RDR2. This wolf is not a low honor animal but is something else and is featured in my RDR1 fanfic of the same name. OCs from that story will be featured here in the future.**

 **This chapter is weak but hopefully, the next one will be better.**

 **Another thing, I'm currently working on a Charles Smith fic so keep a lookout for that. :D**

 **I forgot to add: Thank you, everyone, for all the favs, follows, and reviews!**

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 **Song:** _Just Over That Next Hill ~_ Bruce Broughton – _Homeward Bound: The Incredible Journey_

* * *

 **The Yawning Grave**

 **Chapter Two:**

 **Welcome to Empire**

He felt the warmth of a campfire and heard a woman's lovely singing as he slowly came back into the world of the living. When he opened his eyes, he wasn't met with the bright sun, but shimmering stars and a full moon. That draining, dizzy sensation took over his body again. He wanted to close his eyes and listen to the music, but the singing abruptly ended.

"Oh good, you're awake. How are you feeling?"

Shifting in the bedroll, he saw Mabel watching him with genuine concern in her eyes. The orange light of the fire gave her deep red hair a golden glow around the edges.

"I don't think I have a polite word for it," he grumbled.

"That was quite a blow you took to the head. With all that bleeding we thought you wouldn't make it. I'm glad to see that you pulled through."

"Thank you."

"No, thank you for what you've done for us. I honestly thought I'd never see Molly again. We've had her for two years but in that time, she's become our sister."

Sitting up, Arthur ran a hand over his face and looked around them. They were far from the reservation now. Judging by their surroundings in what little light he had, he figured they were near that witch's shack. He still couldn't believe he once drank from the cauldron.

He looked over the makeshift camp and noticed something was off. Mabel sat close to him and Molly lied her head in Mabel's lap, fast asleep. As he began to fully wake up, he realized Annie was gone.

As if reading his mind, Mabel said: "She's out scouting for better shelter. That girl rattles my nerves. She's only seventeen, but she acts like a grown man sometimes and sadly fights like one, too."

He thought back to earlier when Annie fought off two men at once and could agree with Mabel on that. The fact that she was only a teenager was impressive.

"After she met that lady bounty hunter three years ago, she's wanted to become one ever since. The West is dying though and I couldn't be happier. Soon the modern age will do away with that bounty hunting nonsense and I won't have to worry about Annie chasing men twice her size."

She grabbed for a canteen and passed it to him. He took a long drink before passing it back.

"Thank you, Miss Pike."

"You're welcome." She reached into a bag and retrieved a box of biscuits. "Here, it's not much but it'll hold you over until we find something in the morning."

He thanked her once more as he took the box. He was halfway through one biscuit when he asked her a question.

"You said you haven't had Molly long?"

She sipped on a tin cup and lowered it to her lap. "Oh, yes. I guess truly, Annie and I are Molly's aunts, but she didn't like calling us that. My sister, Susanne, was friends with Molly's real mother. Before she died, she asked Susanne to raise Molly and now she's been with us ever since. Susanne is a schoolteacher, but she still helps run our boarding house." She nibbled on a biscuit and looked up at the sky. "We were all adopted, you see. Annie is the only sibling in our house that's my biological sister. Our real mother died bringing Annie into this world when I was nine. Father, not wanting to raise two girls, gave us away to the Pikes but kept my brother."

 _Doesn't sound like a very good father._ Arthur wanted to say this aloud but kept quiet for now. She most likely wouldn't like it if he insulted her father.

"The Pikes," she continued. "Were very kind people. They couldn't have their own children so they took to adoption. Sadly, they passed away four years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that. It must be hard being orphaned twice."

She looked down at her oversized boots and dug one into the dirt. "Yes, well, I guess I was only orphaned once. I was…" She paused for a few heartbeats, hesitant to add to her sentence. "We'll say I was old enough to live on my own. It relieved me when they allowed Susanne and I to raise our siblings together."

"It's good they allowed that. I hate to hear of siblings being broken up."

She nodded. "So do I, Mister Morgan."

Branches snapped and bushes rustled as a heavy horse trotted up to the camp. The fire cast enough for them to see it was Annie. She dismounted and gave her horse a loving pat.

"What did you find?" Mabel asked.

"An old ranger's tower. Looks abandoned, but it's still in good shape and there's a bed we can place Molly on." Her eyes flicked to Arthur. "Oh, you're alive after all. I bet Mabel three dollars you wouldn't make it." She laughed at this, but Mabel looked mortified.

"Good lord!" Mabel gasped.

Arthur found it amusing and chuckled. "Well, miss, I'm truly sorry you're out of three dollars."

Mabel gave an exasperated sigh. "I suppose we should pack up camp and head to this ranger's tower."

He slept in a chair close to the door that night as all three girls slept in the tiny bed. Outside, the horse was hitched nearby. They snorted, shook their manes, and occasionally stomped their hooves. Hearing them brought him some peace. As long as they were calm, the less likely there was danger.

Every time he nodded off, the deer came to him in his dreams. The buck seemed to be larger than he remembered. Its antlers were tall, reaching the branches on a tree in the forest he found himself in. A thick mist surrounded it, only parting when the buck took a step forward. Arthur tried to call out to it but found he couldn't speak. Behind it, the shape of another creature, a wolf maybe, manifested. He felt no fear when he saw it, unlike the wolf he encountered when he was younger. That one frightened him and its glowing red eyes. This wolf, however, had sad, yellow eyes. He wanted to ask what was his purpose and why he was alive as if it had the answers. Arthur moved closer towards the beasts, only for them to turn and run off deeper into the forest. He tried following them but lost them in the mist.

 _I'm not supposed to be here, alive and healthy. Ain't nothin' about this is natural. I need answers but where do I start?_

* * *

Riding through the Grizzlies was not an easy task with a horse who wanted to jump at its own shadow. He couldn't see Mabel riding this horse without being thrown. To Arthur's surprise, he somehow managed to calm the horse long enough to make it down a narrow path. Ahead of him, Mabel quietly told Molly not to look down.

Few words were spoken as they traveled down the mountains.

When it came time to cross a rickety wooden bridge, he thought Regal would really lose his shit. His real concern wasn't Regal though. It was the draft whose weight caused the wood to creak underneath it. Strong winds picked up and caused the bridge to sway. The draft grunted in irritation and took a single step backward. Annie whispered to her horse, soothing the large beast as they slowly made their way across. On the other side, Mabel and Molly waited for them nervously. Once the three of them were united, it was Arthur's turn. He took the reins of the thoroughbred and stepped on to the bridge.

"Come on, boy, the sooner we get this over with the better."

Regal snorted in protest, but with a firm tug on the reins, the stallion reluctantly followed. The wind was picking up again halfway, but Arthur forced the horse to continue. Finally, they were across. Mabel gave a sigh of relief and patted her mount on the neck.

"It gets easier from here. Nothing but forest and valley," Annie said.

As they rode along a trail, Mabel said, "Mister Morgan, as a way of saying thank you, Annie and I have agreed to allow you to stay at our boarding house for as long as you like."

"You don't have to do that, Miss Pike, I'm only doin' what's right."

A fox darted across the trail, barely missing heavy hooves.

"And so am I, Mister Morgan. I know you won't be staying in Empire long, as you seem to be the transit type, but I'd like to help you out after… what was it that happened to you?"

"I, uh, was robbed I guess you could say."

He didn't enjoy lying to them, but how were they going to believe that something resurrected him from the dead? Not even he could believe it. He kept telling himself he was in some sort of purgatory and that maybe these girls were dead too.

"I'm sorry to hear that, but don't you worry, well get you on your feet."

They left the woods behind them and came to a valley covered in various wildflowers.

"Isn't it pretty?" Mabel said. "We must come back here sometime."

Racing across the flower fields, Arthur was lost in thought again. This couldn't be real. How was he alive? Why and who could have done this, if a person was involved at all? He tried thinking of rational reasons he was brought back. Perhaps magic? No one he knew of practiced magic, so that was out. Could be the deer who visited his dreams, but what was its motive? What did it want from Arthur? What if he had unfinished business as ghost sometimes did?

Tilly once told him of the time she saw her grandmother's ghost. She couldn't figure out why her grandmother was haunting her until the apparition led to the location of where the grandmother's jewelry box was buried. He never believed that story and besides, Arthur couldn't be a ghost. The pain he felt from that blow to the head and the pain he continued to feel told him he wasn't a ghost. Still, there had to be a purpose, some goal he needed to meet for him to be breathing, truly breathing. Whatever the reason, he would find out as soon as possible. The only obstacle he faced was where to begin.

"This area is called Copper Valley," Annie Pike said as they crossed a small stream. Her voice interrupting his thoughts.

"I can see why," Arthur replied.

All around them were fields of wheat ready for harvest. That told him it was late in the summer. Farmers stopped their work long enough to wave hello to those passing through. No one seemed to mind that two riders were close to their property. In Lemoyne, workers had their finger on the trigger the moment they saw him riding along the roads.

He died in early spring, which meant that he was out for five months. If that was the case then maybe it wasn't too late to try and track down the remaining survivors of Dutch's gang and see if they could help him. The ones who mattered at least.

"Don't worry about the folks around here," Annie said over her shoulder. "Mister Olofsson is friendly with us as are the rest of the farmers in this area. Our folks were influential like that."

"I take it we ain't far from Empire then?"

"We should be there by this evening."

"We still have hills to pass over," Mabel reminded them.

"I'm hungry!" Molly added.

"So am I!" said Annie. "Can't we get somethin' to eat?"

Mabel thought for a moment, then suggested, "Well, there is an orchard not far from here. I'm sure Mister O'Hara wouldn't mind if we took some of his fruit, but we must inform him first."

"Yay!" the small child cheered.

Mr. O'Hara was more than happy to give them a share of peaches and plums. He knew of the journey the girls went on to get their sister back and threw in a few sticks of jerky while his wife refilled their canteens. Once they had what they need, they bid the old farmer goodbye and continued toward their destination.

They ate their fill and arrived at the top of the first hill. Before him, was a vast sea of green, rolling hills, reminding him of the Heartlands in New Hanover. Off in the distance were more snow-capped mountains.

"Those are the Buckskin Mountains," Annie said. "It got its name because a lot of Mustangs and Nokota used to roam those mountains and just beyond. There ain't so many anymore."

"What happen to 'em?"

"What do you think happened? The government rounded them up years ago for military use. Some weren't necessarily wild but used by the Indians and could roam freely. Well, as you can guess those Indians ain't there anymore either."

That wasn't surprising to hear, but it still left him sad and agitated all the same.

They raced up and over the hills, through a river, and finally came to a shady forest. Regal froze on the spot and refused to budge when Arthur commanded him to move. Even Annie's large and intimidating horse had his ears pinned and took a few steps back. He had to admit, something did feel off about the place.

"Broken Pines," Mabel whimpered. "I hate this place."

"We'll be fine," Annie assured. "The stories ain't true."

"I know that, but..." She looked down at Molly who shivered in her arms. "But Molly doesn't like it and neither do the horses."

Annie laughed. "Sure, sis, the horses and Molly are the reason you won't enter the forest."

"What's wrong with the forest?" Arthur asked. _I don't think I want to know…_

"Folks say it's haunted, others claim the witch will get you. Then you have cougars and bears that live here, but not so much anymore," Annie said.

"Witch?" _I don't exactly believe in them, but maybe she could help_ _._

"Yeah, Widow Gibbons or the Raven Lady is what they typically call her. She rarely comes to town but when she does folks scatter and this big raven follows her everywhere."

He looked up at the trees and noticed a flock of ravens scattered about, unmoving and silent as they watched from above.

"Creepy," Annie whispered.

After much resistance, the horses finally moved and entered the unusually dark forest. Their horses moved quickly along the path. The entire time, Arthur was apprehensive about the place. He honestly dreaded the idea of coming back here, but it necessary if he wanted answers.

Behind him, the ravens took flight and flew above them. The birds cawed, startling the women and putting the horses on edge. Regal gave a grunt and picked up speed. Arthur held on tighter, worried that if the cremello stallion was spooked any further, he'd throw Arthur and make a run for it.

The ravens perched on the trees at the end of the forest as if waiting for them. The eeriest part wasn't that they were waiting, but that they specifically watched Arthur with tiny yellow eyes.

Sunlight greeted them as they left the forest and Mabel announced Empire wasn't far. Half an hour later, they stood atop a hill, looking down at the town below.

"Welcome to Empire, Mister Morgan."

* * *

Empire, in a way, reminded Arthur of Blackwater, an uncivilized town trying to look civilized. Multiple businesses, a cobblestone main street, the law on every corner, and the citizens wearing the latest fashions. That was something else that stuck out to him, the clothes. The women showed more skin and the material of their dresses were light in appearance with bright colors and the skirts of their dresses were shorter, up past the ankles.

 _A lot has changed in a short amount of time..._

Down the road, the clear call of a newsboy could be heard from a block and a half. All he could hear was something about a war in Europe. There was always a war.

"This is main street," Mabel began. "My mother used to own a boutique here years ago before she started the boarding house." She pointed at the blue and white building. "That's it. It's still a dress shop, but Mrs. Beaufort owns it now. You'll like her. Most of the citizens here are good, honest, hardworking people. They do what they can to make Empire reflect that."

"Too bad those pieces of shits Grady and Brown are trying to destroy this place and any good, honest person in it!" Annie growled. "and that preacher man is no different!"

"Hush, Annie. Not here, you know what happened the last time."

He was curious to know what happened the last time, but figured now wasn't the time or place to ask.

People watched as their horses trotted down the street. Most of them waved and called out questions to the sisters about the girl's safe return. Mabel gave hellos and answered the questions as quickly as possible without sounding curt. Others watched Arthur with a curious eye, some leaned into their companion's ear and whispered while pointing. A stranger in town must have been the highlight of their day.

They made it to the end of the street where Arthur found the newsboy, waving the latest edition of the paper about. Curiosity got to Arthur as he wanted to know just what was going on in the world since he passed.

"Hold on a second, ladies." He slid off the horse and approached the newsboy. "Gimme one of them papers, boy."

The boy gave Arthur the paper. "Here ya go, mister. That'll be thirty cents."

"Thirty cents?! Last time I paid for a paper it was only a dime," Arthur grumbled as he dug into his satchel for the right amount.

"Don't know where you been, mister, but the paper ain't cost that much in a long time."

He dropped the change in the boy's hand and leaned against the wall as he read the headlines. _**WAR BREAKS OUT ACROSS EUROPE! EXPECTED TO BE OVER BY CHRISTMAS!**_ He skimmed the article before his eyes drifted back to the top where he checked the date. The paper almost slipped from his hands when he saw the year: _August 4_ _th_ _, 1914._

Fifteen years. Fifteen goddamn years and he'd been dead for all that time. So much happened in the world and to his friends and he missed it all. Fifteen years the world carried on without Arthur Morgan in it. So many people he encountered all those years ago moved on with their lives. At that moment, he thought of the women, Sadie, Charles, the Marstons. What became of John, he wondered. Did he and Abigail stay together? Did little Jack become a scholar? He was always a smart kid for his age. His mind landed on Dutch and Micah. He'd like to think Micah was dead by now, but somehow, that man always cheated death. Dutch most likely found his paradise.

"Arthur, are you okay?" Annie asked.

He looked up from the paper. The girls watched him with concern in their eyes.

"You don't look well, Mister Morgan."

"I… I'm fine, I just need to find something. It won't take me long."

He scanned the front of the paper again and stopped on another article, one about a government agent called Edgar Ross who retired. Showing the man's picture, Arthur recognized him easily. Sure he was much older, but it was still that Pinkerton who worked beside Agent Milton. Reading further, he found the answers to his questions and his blood ran cold. The Dutch van der Linde gang had been eradicated. Dutch van der Linde, Javier Escuella, Bill Williamson, and John Marston were all dead. The last one stuck out to him the most, making his heart heavy. After everything he and John went through to give the Marstons a new life, the law finally got him.

Neatly folding the paper, he stored it in his satchel. Grief rested on his shoulders as he made his way to the horse. He had not felt this low since his diagnosis.

"Why, Miss Pike, you found Molly!" a woman's voice, pulled Arthur back into the real world.

A tall, heavyset woman in dark clothing crossed the street, making her way towards the Pike sisters.

"Missus Baysinger," Mabel said. The friendly tone in her voice sounded forced. "How lovely to see you."

"Heard you went and got Molly yourself and here she is, alive and well. A bit dirty, though."

"She'll have a bath once we get home," Mabel replied.

"Well, see to it and give that poor thing a decent meal." Mrs. Baysinger gave Arthur a judgmental eye and said, "Who is the fellow with you? I've never seen him 'round here before."

Mabel dismounted off the horse, giving Annie and Molly extra saddle room. "Missus Baysinger, this is Arthur Morgan. He helped us bring Molly back home."

Arthur wasn't up to politeness when he just discovered that his friend, his brother was dead, but somehow he managed to in the effort. He almost reached for his hat, only to remember that he gave it to John long ago. Marston probably didn't have it anymore.

"Evenin', ma'am," Arthur said.

"So, you helped bring back this child, eh? Well, that's good to hear! Could use more people like you 'round here."

She stuck out her hand, and he shook it, noticing the woman's strong grip.

"I only did what anyone else would've done."

She scoffed. "Oh, bull! Half the men here are nothin' but chicken hearts. Ain't none of 'em were willin' to help out the Pikes. They've had enough heartache as is."

Mabel averted her eyes to the ground. He remembered she spoke of her deceased parents the night before and felt sorry for her.

"Say, Mister Morgan, you stayin' in town for long?"

"I, uh, I'm not sure."

"Well, if you need money, you come to me. My husband owns a stagecoach business. It don't get a lot of business these days with those fancy automobiles and such, but some folk still use 'em. We could always use a guard and a fella such as yourself would be perfect."

"I appreciate the offer, ma'am."

"Don't mention it. I should be goin' now. Mabel, you get that baby home, you hear?"

Mable smiled and said, "Yes, ma'am."

Once Mrs. Baysinger was gone, Arthur mounted Regal. He stayed behind the sisters, his thoughts scattered and his heart heavy. Had it all been for nothing?

 _You're my brother…_

It couldn't have been for nothing. If Jack was still out there, if the remaining women had made it out alright, he had to hold out for hope.

* * *

The boarding house was outside of town, surrounded by prairie. It was large, painted light blue with white trimming. Morning glories wrapped themselves around the porch posts and rose bushes were planted on each side. The balcony wrapped around the second-story and he could see blue curtains in one of the rooms. To the east end of the property, was a bright red barn with a large corral attached. An adolescent boy who looked no older than fourteen was riding a bay Nokota inside the corral.

The screen door flew open and a woman whose build reminded him of Karen came running out of the house. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a tight, neat bun and her eyes were brown. Molly jumped off the horse before Mabel or Annie could stop her and ran towards the woman.

"Susanne, I missed you!" the child cried.

Molly jumped into the woman's arms and hugged her neck.

"Oh my god, I can't believe you're safe. I was so worried I wouldn't see you again. Mabel, Annie, I'm glad you got her back."

"We didn't do it alone," Annie said. "Arthur here helped us. If it wasn't for him, we wouldn't have found her."

Susanne set Molly down as Arthur slid off the horse. She approached him, the tears welling in her eyes.

"Thank you so much! She's all I have left of my friend."

"Don't mention it."

She wiped her eyes and sniffed. "We're all grateful to you. Annie, go down to the barn and fetch Clayton and the girls for me, tell them supper is ready."

Annie took the reins of both horses and led them to the barn. Susanne scooped up Molly again and beckoned for the others to follow.

"Come on, I'll tell Beth to set out an extra plate."

The aroma of a home-cooked reminded him he had not properly eaten yet. It had been fifteen years after all. In the kitchen, a blonde girl they introduced as Beth set the plates, silverware, and glasses.

"Mister Morgan, this is Beth. She's thirteen and does the cooking and laundry," Mabel said. "While she and Susanne prepare the table, I'll show you to your room."

He followed her up the stairs as she carried a pitcher of warm water. Entering the room, he was surprised at the lack of decorations. It didn't seem to fit the rest of the place. Mabel set the pitcher in a bowl on the dresser and opened the curtains. What was left of the sunlight shown through the windows and gave him some visibility. The full-sized bed was fitted with clean white sheets and a patch quilt over it. Next to the closet was a small stove heater and a kerosene lamp on the nightstand.

"It's not much, but I figured you wouldn't want the frilly room," Mabel said.

"This room is fine. Thank you, Miss Pike."

"You're welcome. Supper should be ready by the time you finish and if you want a bath, we have a bathroom downstairs." Even in the poor lighting, he noticed a blush creep on her face. "Well, I'll leave you to it and one more thing, I'll set out a fresh set of clothes for you. One of our previous tenants left without his things a few years ago. You should be about his size."

She left him alone to wash up. When he finished, he gave himself a once-over in the mirror. He wasn't as thin as he used to be when he was sick, but it was clear he wasn't as brawny as he once had been. He dried his face and placed the towel back in its original placed.

 _Looks as if I'm stuck here in Empire until I can get some money. At least I have a place to sleep until I can figure out what to do._

He joined the Pikes downstairs, the aroma of the meal hit him, making his stomach beg for the pork roast and roasted vegetables. Pulling out a chair, he took his seat beside Mabel. The screen door opened and slammed shut behind Annie, a black-haired boy he assumed to be Clayton.

"I take it you're Arthur Morgan?" Clayton said as he took a seat across from Arthur.

"I am."

"I'm Clayton Pike. Used to be Clayton O'Neil but that was a long time ago."

"I, uh, heard you kids were all adopted," Arthur said. "Your folks must've been good people to take you all in."

"They were great. Better than my real parents. I hope they're dead!" Clayton said, bluntly.

"Clayton, don't you dare say a thing like that!" Mabel scolded.

"Are we gonna keep yappin' or are we gonna eat?" Annie growled.

Susanne cut the pork roast into thick slices and served everyone their fill. They passed the mash potato bowl around, along with the gravy, vegetables, cornbread, butter, and fried okra. Arthur looked down at his plate, his hand gripping the fork, as he resisted gobbling it up like an animal. When tuberculosis took hold, he wasn't as hungry as he used to be. Everyone around camp had noticed and asked if he was okay. Some of them such as Bill joked that Pearson's cooking was at fault, none of them knowing that sickness was slowly taking over Arthur's body. Now his appetite hit him at full force.

"Go on, everyone, dig in," Susanne said.

The food was better than expected from a thirteen-year-old. When he complimented her, she blushed and mumbled a thank you.

"She's a bit shy," Mabel whispered.

Molly was the first to finish her supper. When she finished, she scooted away from the table, letting her chair squeak across the floor. She hopped away from the kitchen before running up the stairs.

"I'm so sorry for the girl's display just now, Mister Morgan. Molly can be… hyperactive," Susanne explained.

"No need to apologize, miss, children tend to be that way sometimes."

"Do you have any of your own?"

Memories of Isaac flashed in his mind and his heart hurt more than it did when he read the paper. The answer was caught in his throat and he struggled to find the right way to respond. Neither yes or no felt right. Susanne realized what she'd done and fumbled out an apology.

"I didn't mean… if I… I'm sorry."

"It's fine, I ain't offended."

They had the rest of their meal in silence.

* * *

After dinner and resting in the parlor, Arthur and Mabel stood in what was now his room. The awkward silence that passed between him was too much and he knew he had to be the one to break it.

"Dinner was great. I haven't had a meal like that since I was a kid," he admitted.

She smiled. "I'm glad to hear you liked it, Mister Morgan. We have little, but we manage."

"If you don't mind me askin', Miss Pike, where are the other tenants? You said this was a boarding house."

She looked down at the floor. "We haven't had a tenant in months. Our last one was a gold miner, and he moved out when he found a wife. I'll be honest with you, we've fallen on hard times, but I know things will get better. They have to. Now I what you to know that we'll be giving you one month rent free."

"A month? Miss Pike, I don't know about a month. A week maybe but-"

"Please accept it. I know you won't stay that long, but Susanne and I agreed on it."

A month was too generous, especially after just hearing of their financial troubles. He felt guilty accepting but did anyway as to not hurt her feelings.

"I appreciate your offer. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I should give you some space. Oh, I almost forgot." She was gone, leaving his door open. When she came back, she had two sets of fresh clothes in her arms. "Here are the new clothes I promised. If anything doesn't fit, let me know and I'll fix it for you." She placed them on his bed. "Goodnight, Mister Morgan."

She was gone again, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Taking the set of clothes, he placed them in on the rocking chair in the corner and crawled into bed. He turned off the lamp but didn't fall asleep right away. All he could think about was the news article he read hours earlier.

* * *

Mabel quickly slipped on her nightgown while Susanne did her nightly routine of checking in on the children. She nestled under the covers and opened the nightstand that stood between the twin beds. Taking out a copy of _The Hounds of Baskervilles_ and putting on her reading glasses _,_ she started chapter four, but after the third paragraph, she found it hard to concentrate. All she could think about was the handsome man who occupied the room across the hall.

It had been a long time since she noticed a man in that way. Not after Grant had broken her heart five years earlier. Since then, she had kept a wall around her heart, afraid that if she felt even the slightest hint of attraction, she'd get hurt again. Now the town called her a spinster which was fine with her. She didn't mind the loneliness if it hurt less than a man making her choose between him and her family.

Sighing, she shut the book and placed it back in its resting spot. As she folded her glasses, Susanne quietly entered the room and dressed for bed. She slid under the covers of her own bed and picked up her book. Mabel pulled the covers over her shoulders and closed her eyes. Only when she thought she was falling asleep did Susanne speak.

"He's very good looking, don't you think?"

Mabel opened her eyes but kept her stare at the ceiling. "Who?" _If I didn't know._

"That Arthur Morgan fellow. He's a little strange, though. Do you think we can trust him?"

"I believe so."

"Well, you spent more time with him than I did." She looked worried and added. "I think I upset him at the table."

"I don't think your question offended him, but I noticed the sadness in his eyes." She sighed and stared at the bedroom door.

Susanne giggled.

"What's so funny?" Mabel asked.

"Why Mabel Pike, I think you have a crush."

She giggled again.

Mabel huffed. "I do not!"

"Do _too_ ," Susanne teased with a grin.

Mabel rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Susanne, you're acting exactly like the children you teach."

"But I'm not a teacher until September. Until then, I get to be plain ol' Susanne Pike."

Just as the youngest of the two opened her book, Mabel leaned in close to the lamp and blew out the flame.

"Hey!"

"Goodnight, dear sister," Mabel said, turning her back to Susanne.

As she closed her eyes and drifted off, she heard her sister quietly say, "Do too."


	3. Another Door Closes

**I meant for this chapter to be a lot longer, but long chapters are not my strong suit.**

 **The Black Wolf will take longer to finish so if you're following that too, sorry for the wait.**

* * *

 **The Yawning Grave**

 **Chapter Three:**

 **One Door Closes**

 **Armadillo, New Austin**

Jack groaned as someone gripped his shoulders and shook him awake. A blurry shape hovered over him and kept shouting something in muffled words. He grabbed the figure's wrists and pried them loose.

"Leave me alone," he growled.

His vision and hearing were clearer. Standing over him was a dark-haired man with a thick mustache. His surroundings were gray and bleak.

"Thought you were dead."

He rubbed his temples and groaned. "I feel like it."

He forced himself to stand on weak legs and tried ignoring his rolling stomach. He tried to remember the night before but the events were one giant blur. The man backed away and Jack saw the man's badge. Shit, he was in jail.

"You behaved like a real jackass last night. You're lucky we knew your father or else your fine would've been more."

The deputy backed out of the cell, shut the door, and locked it. Jack fell back onto the bed, flinching as he hit the hard surface under the thin mattress.

His last memory from the night before was downing a whiskey before someone started yelling in his face. He couldn't remember why the stranger was so pissed with him but in the next moment, he was swinging his fist.

"I have a pardon letter."

His stomach twisted, a sour taste overwhelmed his mouth.

"I know, but before you go, I want to ask you something."

 _Does this man know what I've done? If I speak I'll spew._ Jack could only nod in response.

"Do you know what you've done to that poor animal?"

Jack slowly shook his head and wanted to say "What animal?".

When Jack didn't speak, the deputy continued. "We take animal cruelty very seriously here in Armadillo. The MacFarlane place has stronger feelings on it than we do so be lucky you weren't caught there."

"What are you talking about?" Jack managed to ask as he fought back the need to vomit.

The deputy sat back in the chair meant for the marshal. "When the law came after you, you spurred your horse so hard your spurs cut into her sides and after riding the hell out of her, the poor thing collapsed. Then you got up and kicked at her to keep going. That is when we caught you."

Guilt washed over him. He'd never meant to hurt Rain and had zero memory of it. He imagined the paint looking up at him with her blue eyes full of fear and hurt, wondering what she wronged as her rider kicked and yelled at her.

"I don't know what to say. I would never…"

His stomach lurched, and he lost the contents of it all over the jail cell floor. The deputy grimaced at sight of Jack's dinner.

"Just lay down and sleep that off. When you wake up, I'll let you go."

Jack curled up into a ball on the bed and groaned as a prickly feeling stabbed at his gut. As he drifted off to sleep, he heard the deputy yell for Jonah to clean up the mess.

* * *

The saloon owner tossed out Jack's gear after he trashed the bar, but the Marshal was nice enough to store them in the jail until the sheriff released. The bright New Austin sun beat down on him and made his headache worse. He walked passed the saloon and cut through the alley.

Entering the stables, he looked around for his mare, passing horses of different breeds and colors. He found her in the last stall, curled up on a pile of fresh hay. He wanted to open the gate and lie down beside her and tell her how sorry he was.

 _I need to stay away from the bottle for a while._

She opened her eyes and raised her head. At the sight of her rider, she perked up and scrambled to her hooves. Jack reached out and scratched her cheek. The mare moved closer and his hand moved down her neck. His whispered an apology to her as he took out a beet for her to munch on.

"I promise I won't act like that again."

"I see the mare is awake."

Jack turned to face the source of the voice. The man before him wore overalls and a dirty white shirt. His blond hair combed back and his beard was long.

"What business is it of yours?" Jack snapped.

The man moved Jack out of the way and inspected Rain. "It is my business because I'm the one who treated her last night."

"You're a veterinarian? You sure don't dress like one."

"Dealing with animals doesn't leave room for dressing fancy," he replied as he stepped inside the stall.

"Well, thanks, I guess. She's doing better now."

"I think I'll be the judge of that." He inspected the stitches on her right side and said, "You don't deserve this horse, you know that? She's a fine animal and doesn't need you as an owner."

Jack stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned against the stable, trying to mask the guilt he already felt. "Just hurry up, I have things to do, mister."

Half an hour later, Jack and Rain were back on the road. Because of her injuries, Rain couldn't run fast without the risk of tearing her stitches. Jack didn't mind though. He was now a man with no real place to go or a home. Yes, he had Beecher's Hope, but that was only a house. A lonely, empty house where he heard boot steps in the dead of night and a black wolf watched him with illuminating yellow eyes.

He _hated_ that wolf. It never left him alone. Always watching, always following. Just the thought of it made Jack grow fearful and scan his surroundings. Two weeks after his father was laid to rest, he awoke in the night covered in a cold sweat. Feeling as though he were being watched, Jack got out of bed and slowly approached his window. It was a new moon that night, making the property too dark to see. The first few weeks, he could only see the shape of the wolf moving in the tree-line. He thought it to be an ordinary wolf until he saw the glowing eyes. When his mother came down with tuberculosis, the wolf moved closer to the house and continued to as her condition worsened. On the night she died, the wolf was watching through the window, but Jack paid the wolf little mind as stayed by Abigail's side. When he buried her, the wolf stayed by the barn. Seeing it there, enraged him and he pulled out his pistol and shot at it. He could have sworn that he hit it, but instead, it stood and walked away. He hadn't seen the creature since, but he could sense it. Even now as Rain took him closer to the MacFarlane ranch, he sensed the bastard was close.

He pushed the feeling away, knowing there was nothing he could do about it.

The ranch was insight and Jack urged Rain to pick up a little speed. As they passed the fence, Rain slowed back to a walk before he made her stop. He dismounted and took the reins to lead her the rest of the way. Hitching his horse at his father's old shack, he walked around the back of the house where he knew Bonnie would be.

He found her on her hands and knees working in the garden with a small shaded basket by her side. He didn't need to be close to know what was in it. The squeak of the gate's hinges made Bonnie stop what she was doing and looked up. At the sight of Jack, she beamed. Before he could stop her, she wrapped her arms around him.

"Jack, I'm glad to see you! Are you feeling alright? Are you hungry? You look as if you could use a bath!"

"It's good to see you, too and I'm doin' fine."

She stepped back and looked him over. "Well, you're not hurt, so that's good." She frowned and added. "If you're here, then that means…"

"He's dead, Bonnie," Jack replied in a low tone.

She sighed. "I can't say I'm proud of you, but… I understand how you feel. I think I'd do the same in your shoes."

"How are the livestock?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Good. Are you here to collect the cattle and horses then?"

Jack hesitated before shaking his head. "No, I'm not. I came here to pay you extra because I can't take them yet."

"What do you mean?"

He averted his eyes from her. "I can't run a ranch right now. I'm too… I.. I don't know, Bonnie. I don't think I want that life. I want something else."

"What life do you want?"

"I don't know anymore. All I know is that spending time in an empty house isn't too inviting right now."

"My house is far from empty. Come on, I'm sure daddy would like to see you." She picked up the basket. "It's time to wake up, Thomas. Jack is here to visit."

Sitting in the living area, Jack told the story of tracking down Ross to Drew MacFarlane. The older man leaned forward in his seat, listening intently. Bonnie moved around the room, pouring tea and serving pound cake while the men talked. She took a seat beside her father when she finished, setting her infant son in her lap.

"And no one saw this?" Drew asked.

"As far as I know, no one saw me."

Drew looked skeptical.

"I made sure!"

"I believe you, son. Just be careful out there."

Jack took a bite of his cake and washed it down with tea. He would be lying if he said he wasn't worried. One of the reasons he wasn't at the ranch was the fear of officers at his door. He'd never admit any of this out loud though.

"I have been." He decided not to tell them about the previous night or the mistreatment of his horse. "The river took his body away, so I think no one will find it for a long time. I reckon he'll be nothin' but bones by then and unidentifiable."

Drew placed his cup back on the table. "And you're not taking back your animals?"

He didn't want to have this conversation again, but he knew Drew could understand.

"I came here to pay you extra to hold the animals a little longer. I can give you the herd. All fifteen heads."

Drew scratched his graying beard as he thought it over. "I gotta think about this one. I could always use more cattle, but it doesn't seem right to take em off you without a fair price."

"Don't worry about the money, Mister MacFarlane. I got plenty."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"How long has it been since you went into Blackwater?" Bonnie inquired.

"I guess a year and a half. Wait… why?"

"Good." Bonnie stood, rested Thomas on her hip, and touched Jack's hair. "Go upstairs, have a bath, and shave. Then meet me outside on the porch."

Jack raised a brow. "I don't think I like where this is going."

"You probably won't but it might keep people from recognizing you, just in case. Now, you sit there while one of the girls runs you a bath."

Jack begrudgingly agreed. Whatever Bonnie had planned didn't sound like it was something he would enjoy.

Upstairs, he stripped out of his dirty clothes and tossed them on the tiled floor and set his clean clothes on a chair. As he scrubbed his limbs, he wished for one of those deluxe baths some saloons had to offer. Uncle warned him to never mess with a working girl, but what was wrong with letting one wash him?

Despite the warm water relaxing his muscles, he washed quickly to get Bonnie's little scheme over with. He dried and dressed once his bath finished. Now his only task was to shave as requested by his friend. Taking the shaving powder, he mixed it with water until became a rich lather, then with a razor in hand, shaved away the facial hair he'd grown out for months. When he finished, he rinsed and dried his face. He slowly lowered the towel, dreading the baby face that awaited him. To his surprise, however, it wasn't as bad as he thought. Sure, it felt odd seeing himself without his mustache and goatee, but at least he didn't look like he did at thirteen.

Ten minutes later, as promised, he met Bonnie on the front porch. He saw the folded sheet, the combs, washbasin, and scissors and wanted to run. Seeing his clean-shaven face, she smiled.

"Well don't you look handsome?" She said with a giggle.

"Don't start, Bonnie," he grumbled.

"Have a seat at the chair."

He did as asked, but with a scowl.

"Stop making faces, Jack."

"I ain't makin' faces."

The sound of scissors open and closing made him tense. Bonnie gently ran a comb through his hair, held out a brown lock, and positioned it between the scissors. Jack closed his eyes in anticipation of what was coming next. In a split second, a brown lock fell to the ground. She took another and one by one they littered a small area of the porch. His head felt lighter and colder. She brushed away the strands that rested on his shoulders while humming a tune to herself.

 _This is pure torture but maybe she's right. I can grow it back again once the heat dies down if it ever does. They're just searching for him. Right now, they think he's still alive or at least hoping. But they'll never find him. His body washed away somewhere past the Scratching Post._

Picturing Ross' sun-bleached bone slowing turning to dust pleased Jack. He wished to relive that moment again. He'd savor it, probably go back and kill the brother and wife, too. Images of their corpses filled his mind, bringing him satisfaction, but as quickly as that feeling came, it was replaced with disgust.

 _What is wrong with me? Ross deserved to die, but not those two. They're innocent! It's not their fault that man was a snake. I don't like this side of me. I need to clear my head; I need to put enough distance between me and New Austin as possible and I don't think Beecher's Hope is far enough._

"Alright, Jack, I'm done," she said running the comb through his hair a final time.

She placed a handheld mirror in his hand. He flipped the mirror and stared at his reflection. He looked like a different person. Now that his hair was shorter, it looked darker again. It wasn't too short, around the same length as when he was a teenager. Before his father died. He ran his fingers through it, silently admiring Bonnie's work.

"Well, what do you think?"

"At least no one will recognize me."

"Good."

She dusted off his shoulders again, removed the sheet, and emptied the wash pan. Jack rose from the chair and looked out onto the horizon. It was tempting to jump on his horse and ride away but to where?

"You okay, Jack?"

"Yeah, just thinking of what all's out there."

"A lot," she simply stated.

"Thanks, I didn't know that."

She gave him a playful whack on the arm. "Watch it, kid. Listen, if you want something to do, I think Noah and I may have something for you."

Noah Robertson was Bonnie's husband, a ranch hand they hired shortly after John's death. Six months later, Bonnie and Noah married. Some people around the ranch said they rushed their courtship and the only reason she married him was that he reminded her of John Marston. Jack heard the rumors of Bonnie possible feelings for his father. Whether they were true, he didn't care.

"Like what?"

"Noah has a cousin up in Ambarino who's in need of a courier."

Jack raised a brow. "You think I should be a mailman?"

"There's more to it than just walking around town and delivering mail. Ambarino is dangerous territory, but the pay is good and who knows, maybe the change of scenery will be good for you."

"Ambarino is kinda far, don't you think?"

"It's up to you if you want to go. Think your horse is up for it?"

Jack watched as Rain pranced around the corral. The paint wasn't the fastest horse alive, but she wasn't the slowest either. She was up for the task if they did this. She needed a few days to fully recover, though. Until then, he could stay here on the ranch.

"I think she can do it."

"So that's a yes?"

"It's a maybe. You're right, though, I need a change of scenery, but I don't think I want to be a courier."

She smiled. "It's something at least. Now, let's get you properly fed."

Two days later, Jack was loading Rain into the livery car. Bonnie gave him a large paper bag of two sandwiches and an apple. He noticed the bag felt heavier than it should have, to which she replied that it was a surprise. He thanked her, and she hugged him tightly. After shaking Drew's hand, he boarded the train with one last wave. As the train pulled away, he could have sworn he saw the blonde woman crying.

By noon, the train had made it to Strawberry, a town Jack had not visited since he was a boy. He thought of the Pronghorn Ranch and the owners who had been kind to his family when they needed it. He read in the obituaries two years earlier that David Geddes, the owner to of the farm, had passed away. Jack didn't have the fondest memories there, but he still liked the people. Maybe someday, he'd see them again.

He opened the paper bag, remembering that Bonnie left him a gift inside. To his surprise, it was a leather-bound book and a pencil. Unfastening the buckle, he opened it to find the pages blank except for what Bonnie had written on the first page.

 _Jack, I know you said you would never write again, but I refuse to believe that or let you quit. You're a bright boy, even if you act foolishly at times. Don't give up on your dreams. Keep writing. If it isn't stories, put your thoughts on paper. ~ Bonnie_

He smiled, feeling the love come off her words. With the pencil in hand, he wrote down his first journal entry.

* * *

 **Unpopular opinion time! I hated Jack's long hair and mustache. He's better off without them.**


	4. The Scorpion's Daughter

**To Guest reader: No, I won't be adding Raul to this. He was just a silly idea I had for Jack and Summer.**

 **Song:** _Suor Omicidi ~_ Alessandro Alessandroni

* * *

 **The Yawning Grave**

 **Chapter Four:**

 **The Scorpion's Daughter**

In the early morning hours, while the sky was still a deep blue, Annie awoke before everyone else. She quickly, but quietly dressed in her typical attire of male clothing and tip-toed out of her room and down the stairs. Closing the back door behind her, she slipped on her boots and ran for the barn.

Every morning, she awoke an hour early to go for a ride before Mabel got up and barked orders at her. It was only during these early hours did she get peace and solitude. Annie thought it was odd how she could feel smothered by her large family while also feeling alone. Her older sisters viewed her as an enigma and gave up long ago trying to figure her out, while her younger siblings were too young to form a real bond with. Clayton was close to her age, but he was more of a loner who preferred dogs and horses over the company of people.

She pushed the barn door open only enough for her to slip inside and grabbed her saddle and bridle. Big Macintosh or Mac as he was more commonly called waited patiently for her in his stall. He knew the routine and if she missed a morning; the draft was cranky until she took him for a ride.

"'Mornin', boy. Ready to stretch them legs?"

Mac gave a snort and stomped the ground.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Once saddled, she led him out of the barn and across the yard. When she felt they were far enough, she climbed on his back and spurred his sides. They rode along the fence until they came to the gate. Before Annie could stop the stallion, he jumped, cleared it, and kept running. So much for opening it.

The wind whipped her hair as Mac raced through the forest. Annie learned the hard way to let the horse guide themselves through a dense area rather than telling them where to go. The latter left Annie with a broken arm last year after she and Mac smacked head-on into a tree. She thought Mabel would never let it go.

The sky was a brighter shade of blue by the time they came to Primrose Creek, a secluded place that her family, aside from Clayton, knew nothing about. She dismounted and fed Mac a pear before taking one for herself.

Taking off her boots and rolling up her britches, she waded in the cool water and squished the mud. It was gross and immature, but she strangely liked the sensation. Across the creek, a frog hopped into the water and darted away from Annie. She thought of catching it but remembered reading in one of her nature books that handling frogs could harm them. She walked deeper into the cooler and knee-deep part of the water. The heavy hooves of her companion splashed into the water and startled her.

"Mac, you little shit!"

She splashed water in his face and in return, he reared up and slammed his front hooves in the water, sending a small wave her way. She yelped and fell back into the creek. The shock of the cold water caused her to scream. She jumped out, soaked to the bone and freezing.

"I still stand by what I said!"

Mac gave a snort and trotted out of the water. Taking his reins, she left the forest and guided him to a misty meadow. By now the sun's reddish-gold rays were peaking through the trees in the horizon.

She wanted to stay and enjoy the view but even from where she was standing, but she could see that one of her older sisters had opened their curtains. Annie thought of lowering herself in an attempt to hide but was useless to do so. Grabbing the saddle horn, Annie hauled herself onto Mac.

As she was about to spur Mac's sides, she caught sight of an unusual creature watching her. She thought it to be a fox at first glance because of its vibrant red fur, however, it was too big and lanky. Its eyes stood out too; being a deep auburn. Annie motioned for Mac to step closer for a better view but it didn't move. Was it a coyote, maybe? It was the only other animal she could think of. She wanted to get closer to it but stayed in place. A coyote this close to the property was a threat to their chickens and the younger children but she couldn't bring herself to harm.

"Go on, git outta here!" Annie hissed. "If my brother sees you, you're dead."

It flicked its ears in response and fell to its haunches. It gave its neck a scratched and shook its head.

"Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you."

With that, she turned away from the coyote and raced home before they caught her.

By the time she made it back, Beth was in the kitchen preparing breakfast. Annie crept around the side of the house and made to the front porch without being seen. Opening the door, she slipped inside unnoticed. Quickly, but she quietly made it up the stairs while Mabel and Susanne were still in their rooms. She peeled off her soggy clothing and tossed them in a wicker basket in the corner of the room, making a squishy thud.

She hurriedly dressed in a white shirt and overalls with patches on the knees. Mabel's light footsteps were approaching her door as she wrung out her hair and brushed it.

Without knocking, Mabel opened the door and stared down Annie with her hands on her hips. Her green eyes narrowed at her younger sister whose hair still dripped with creek water.

"Well, are you gonna stand there all mornin' or are you gonna yell at me already?" Annie said.

"Don't you take that tone with me! I want to know why there's a trail leading from the front door and all the way up to your room."

Annie shrugged. "Cuz I took a bath in the creek this mornin'." She turned away from Mabel and retrieved a pair of socks from her dresser. "Is that all or are you gonna complain some more?"

Mabel crossed her arms. "Someone could have fallen! Is that what you want? Get a mop and clean this mess up." Annie opened her mouth to protest, but Mabel wouldn't have it. " _Now!_ "

The teenager gave an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. Without saying a word, Annie stormed passed her sister and stomped down the hallway and stairs. In the kitchen, Beth was about to greet Annie but saw the sour mood she was in and thought against it. Annie yanked open the closet built into the stairs and fetched the mop. She slammed it shut with a kick and began to mop up the water.

"Do you have to act like a brat?"

She stopped and faced Clayton who was standing behind her. "I ain't actin' like no brat. She agitated me and I told her off."

"It's been stressful 'round here lately with everything that's happened."

"Yeah well, we resolved the thing that stressed us and now everything can go back to normal."

"Ain't nothin' normal 'round here, Annie. Besides, Molly might be home, but we ain't out of the woods yet." Clayton was right, but she would not let him know that. "I got work to do, I guess. See you outside."

Annie said nothing and continued with her task. As she made it to her bedroom, she secretly wished for a friend. A girl who understood her and had the same interest. A girl who wasn't worried about being a prim and proper lady. One who could relate to her and understand, but it felt unlikely she'd ever meet someone like that.

* * *

The train stopped at Valentine in the early hours of the morning. By the time it made it to the Emerald Station the sun was rising over the mountains. The train came to a stop and a few passengers got off.

Jack blinked and rubbed his eyes to rid them of the blurriness then looked around him. He was in the Heartlands, a place that held faint memories. The seat next to him was empty again which was a relief. The man he was forced to share a seat with was a large man who snored all night. He barely had any sleep! Looking out the window, he watched two ranch hands board the train and take their seats across from him. He glanced out the window again and noticed a girl and a middle-aged man walk alongside the train and board it. He didn't think much of it and pulled his hat down to catch more shut-eye.

A second later, a light tap touched his arm, and he pulled his hat up. Standing next to him was a tall, slim, dark-skinned Indian girl he'd guess to be fifteen. Her black hat partially hiding her face. He couldn't see her eyes, but he noticed the pink scar on the right side of her face. On the left side, he saw the purple and yellow discoloration on her jawline. She wore a black vest over a light blue shirt with rolled-up sleeves and black pants.

"Can I sit with you?" she asked. Her voice was soft yet upbeat and bubbly.

He'd rather she didn't but would have felt bad if he turned her away. "I don't mind."

She tossed her bag above him with the rest of the luggage and took a seat beside him. When she adjusted her hat, he saw more of her slim, angular face and the bruises and scars that marked it. Her right eye -which was covered with a patch- had a long scar from her brow to her cheekbone, another started from the bridge of her nose, ran across her cheek, and ended at her jaw below the ear. The bottom left of her eye wasn't any better. Though the swelling was down, the bruising was still a deep purple.

 _What in the hell happened to her?_

"Thanks for letting me sit here. Everyone else looks unfriendly and me and Daddy couldn't find a seat together." She pointed to a man who sat in front. The man wore a battered hat with bullet holes and his jacket was denim. "That's my pa."

Despite the beating her face had taken, Jack was still taken aback by the color of her eyes. The steely gray stood out against her dark skin and made them appear almost haunting. Half-breed, Jack thought. No way could a full-blooded Indian have eyes such as hers.

"I guess I don't mind some company."

"I tend to travel with my father mostly so it's nice to have company that isn't blood."

"Yeah…"

"So, where you headed?"

He wanted to sleep, but it didn't look like he'd get any. "Ambarino."

The whistle screamed, and the train was on the move again.

She smiled. "That's where we're heading, too! My dad is bounty hunting." She stuck her hand out to him. "Summer Cloud Harlow or you can just call me Summer. Most folks do, but never call me Morgan."

Jack slowly took her hand, and she shook it vigorously. "Jack Marston."

Her eyes lit up, and he knew exactly what she was about to say next.

"Marston? Like John Marston?"

"Yes," he answered flatly. "Let me guess, he helped you in some way?"

"Sure did! He saved my life when I was just a girl. You see this?" she pointed to her scars. "Cougar got me when I was twelve and your pa found me sometime later. If it wasn't for him, I would've died. These days, I'm blind in this eye, but I can shoot better than any man with four."

"Glad to hear he saved you, miss."

"How is your pa these days?"

He thought maybe she was playing a cruel joke, but looking into her one eye, he knew she wasn't lying. Word of his father's death spread quickly and folks from all over offered their condolences, so how was it she didn't know?

"I hate to tell you this, Miss Harlow, but my father died three years ago."

Her eyes widened. "What? But… I was supposed to thank him. I…" she looked down at her lap. "That's sad to hear. I'm sorry for your loss."

There was a long pause as the train took a left and snaked up the mountain. He wanted to tell her there was no reason for her grief, even if John saved her life. It was strange she'd never heard of his death.

"What brings you to Ambarino?" she finally asked.

 _I'm a murderer..._ "I have… business there."

"You don't look like a businessman."

"Well, it's not that kind of business. If you don't mind me askin', miss, what happened to the other side of your face?"

She gave a nervous laugh and said, "Oh this? It's nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothin'. Are you in some kind of danger?"

"No danger. I tangled with folks who are afraid of things they don't understand. They're long gone so no worries."

It piqued his curiosity, but he knew he couldn't press her further on the issue. "I see… well, I hope you're okay now."

"I'm fine now. Just sore from the aftermath. Lemme tell you, sleeping on hard ground is hell on healing ribs."

 _She's too chipper for someone who's been put through the wringer._

Summer Cloud looked out the window and pointed. "Look at that, the sign is just rocks on the hill that spell out Ambarino!"

The girl continued talking his ear off while the train slowly took them through the mountains. In front, her father would sometimes glance behind them if she drifted towards her father's line of work and he'd give her a warning look as if telling her not to talk about it. Most girls would probably flinch at a glare like that, but not her. She rolled her eyes and continued chatting with Jack. He silently admired her bravery.

Her father had scars on his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose, similar to John's. This man's ice-blue eyes told Jack this wasn't someone to be crossed.

As they passed over a bridge high above a river, she pressed close to him, to which he nudged her away. She confessed that she hated heights and always worried the bridges would give out or blow up. She moved away from him, giving back some of his personal space.

They passed through a tunnel carved out of a mountain. The lights in the car flickered to life instantly.

"Boy, these tunnels sure are spooky."

"I guess so," Jack replied.

For the rest of the train ride, she did most of the talking and Jack could only sit there in silence. A few times she asked him questions about his father. Some he answered honestly and others he didn't give a direct answer to keep from disappointing the girl.

Just when he thought the ride would never end, they arrived at a place called Copper Station. Fields of wheat surrounded them with farmers working the land, stagecoaches waited patiently for the passengers exiting the train, and ranchers removed livestock from the livery cars.

"I guess this is our stop," Summer Cloud said, rising from her seat.

"But I don't see a town in sight."

"The train doesn't reach Empire yet. We have to ride the rest of the way." She retrieved her bag and shook Jack's hand again. "Goodbye, Jack Marston, it was nice meeting you."

"Goodbye, Miss Harlow. Are you taking the stage?"

She shook her head and pointed at the champagne mare out the window. "I'm going the rest of the way horseback. Spice will get me there by sundown."

"I see. Well, good luck out there."

She smiled. "Thanks and same to you."

Her father let her go ahead of himself before shooting Jack a glare. Jack internally squirmed at the man's icy blue gaze, but on the surface he was unmoved. Did that old man really think Jack was after his daughter? Not hardly. Not only did he hate her chipper demeanor, but she was plain as a round rock and scarred up to boot.

Looking at their holsters, he noticed they carried the same revolvers. Same scorpion on the handle, same gold color, same engravings.

 _Aw, how nice, matching father-daughter weapons…_

When they left, Jack slumped down in his seat and pulled his hat over his face.

"What's that?" a woman said.

He looked out the window and saw a row of men sitting on horses on top of a hill. He counted ten, but who was to say there were more behind them. Something wasn't right about this. The figures on the hill charged forward. Before he could fully realize what was happening, a gunshot crackled in the air. Women shrieked in terror, a few children wailed, and men cried out for help from the guards.

Then gunfire.

A bullet sailed through the window and struck a man seated behind Jack. The man slumped over and made a soft thud against his seat. Jack ducked down as other passengers took cover. Now there was complete chaos as more bullets struck the train. Over in the next car, he could hear others crying out in fear and confusion.

"We're being robbed!" a man cried.

Thinking of Summer Cloud, Jack peeked out his window and scanned the area for her. Her horse was partially hidden behind the post office, but the Indian was nowhere in sight. If they hurt her, he had to get to her.

Another bullet crashed through his window, making him yelp. He lowered himself back down and looked around for the guards. At the end of the car, he saw a young woman with brown hair bleeding out on the floor. He thought of crawling to her but a man in a fancy suit came to her aid first. She was probably a goner anyway, Jack thought bitterly.

 _I can't just lay here and let these men get away with this!_

On the other end of the car, he found a guard's body slumped over the railing. Two men who looked to be ranch hands returned fire at the bandits outside. One of them was bleeding from his arm. If they could do this, then so could he. Taking out his father's bolt action, he moved for a window and joined the fight. The ranch hands were bad shots, but they kept the bandits on their toes. Jack hit one in the chest and another in the shoulder. One aggressor was bucked and thrown from his horse, and two others shot directly in the head. Jack knew it wasn't his bullets or the ranch hands, so who was it?

"My pa must've killed all the real outlaws cuz I don't see none around here!" a female voice shouted.

Summer Cloud! She was alive, but she was out there fighting with very little cover. He had to get to her before they did.

Five more men came out of the woods and raced around to the other side of the train. Jack hit another target before leaving his position and rushing outside to look for the girl.

"We could've played fair if your men didn't shoot first!" a bandit called out.

Jack found Summer Cloud taking cover by the livery car. Her golden revolver glittered in the sunlight

"You shot first, you bastards!" she shouted back.

He wanted to get her attention, but doing so would probably get her killed. All he could do was concentrate on making sure no one else died today. He took cover and returned fire again, taking out another robber and his horse. Jack felt guilt over killing the animal but there wasn't much he could do about it now.

The men on horses proved to be the most difficult to hit. He peeked over the car and shot off two rounds, hitting a man riding an appaloosa. He quickly ducked down and reloaded his weapon. Taking another look, he saw more bodies scattered on the ground. A man on a bay rode straight for Jack, a Winchester aimed at him. Jack, however, was faster than the outlaw and the man slid off his horse after one bullet to the head. The horse turned and ran with its rider's body hanging on by a stirrup.

"I'll fill you so full of holes, you'll whistle when the wind blows!" Summer taunted as she killed two more men.

Jack was amazed at her skill and amused by her cockiness.

By the end of the fight, there were only five men who quickly retreated when they realized they were outmatched. As they turned and ran for the hills, Jack killed one dressed in a tan duster. He knew he'd lost some honor for it, but he didn't care.

Summer Cloud let out a victory cry. She holstered her revolver with a twirl and turned to Jack.

"Goddamn, that was a hell of a fight!" she said.

"If you say so."

"I thought it was exciting."

A woman's piercing scream tore their attention away from each other. They drew their weapons and jumped onto the car to find the source of the cries. In a passenger car behind the one Jack rode in, they found a woman in a fancy green dress cradling her husband. Jack stepped over the body of a guard and made his way to the woman. Looking over the man, he was chubby and dressed in an expensive suit with a top hat laying at his side.

"I can't believe it," a man standing next to Jack breathed. "They killed him…"

"Killed who? Who is this man?" Jack asked.

"That's Albert Hawthorne. He was running against the mayor in Empire. I guess he ain't no more."

Another woman dressed in red held Hawthorne's wife while she mourned. Jack stepped back and turned away from the scene. He motioned for Summer to leave. There was nothing else they could do here. Outside, the ground was littered with the bodies of outlaws, their blood soaking into the grass.

Not knowing what else to do, Jack, Summer Cloud, and her father helped the conductors remove the dead and lay them out in a row. One of the ranch hands who helped defend the train took a horse and rode for Empire to get help. Sheets were laid over the dead while the living huddled together to mourn over their loved ones. Jack turned away from the scene as painful memories tried to resurface.

"This was worse than I imagined," Summer Cloud said. The spark in her eye was gone, and she suddenly looked tired.

"I don't understand why they'd do this. This isn't something they typically do."

"They're outlaws, Jack. What, did you honestly expect a code of honor from them?"

"Actually, yes I did."

She rolled her eyes. "If you say so."

"A code of honor aside, no gang just suddenly shoots up a train. Maybe a few warning shots, but not this."

"I'd like to stay and find out, but I need to go. Would you like to ride with me?"

Before Jack could consider the answer, her father stepped between them, looking Jack over with his cold eyes. Jack took a step back to give himself space.

"She's not riding with anyone," he said in a voice as equally icy as his gaze.

"That's not fair! He's all alone and could use the company," Summer protested.

"No, and that's final."

He left without another word, signaling the argument was over.

Her arms fell to her sides, and she hung her head in defeat. "Sorry," she said, quietly. "Maybe we'll meet again?"

"We might."

"Let's go," her father called from the livery car.

She climbed onto a champagne standardbred while her father rode a dapple gray gelding. They disappeared over a hill without a wave. Jack was glad he didn't have to hear that girl's endless chatter anymore or feel that man's icy stare on the back of his neck.

Not knowing what else to do, Jack retrieved his mare and rode away from the scene. He took a path that led deeper into the forest, away from the massacre behind him, and further from the river that ran red.

* * *

The sun's rays spilled into the room and shined in Arthur's face. He groaned and buried his face in the pillow. The scent of lavender and pine cleaner filled his nose and sent a message to his brain that something was off with his surroundings. He rolled to his left side to face the wall and opened his eyes. Sitting up, he looked around the room. For a moment, he couldn't figure out where he was or why he was here. As the fog of sleep dissolved from his mind, the event from the last forty-eight hours came back to him.

Things were interesting and depressing. The shock he felt the previous evening came back as strong as he'd first felt it. Going over the paper again, he discovered the Van der Linde gang was gone for exactly three years. Too many questions plagued his mind. Fifteen years was too long, and he wondered what this new world had in store for him. Tossing the paper aside, Arthur grabbed a fresh pair of clothes and dressed for the day.

The aroma of breakfast drifted up the stairs, reminding him he had an appetite. After the meal he had the previous night, it surprised him that he was hungry again. He found Beth and Mabel in the kitchen finishing up the biscuits and gravy.

"Mister Morgan, I take it you slept well?" Mabel asked, smoothing out the skirt of her dress.

"Sure."

"I get the feeling you're more accustomed to the hard forest ground. I would rather sleep in a nice fluffy bed myself."

"That's 'cause you're too soft," Annie said, entering the back door. In her best Mabel impression, she added. "Oh, no, I chipped a nail! Oh my, a speck 'o dirt touched my ankle. What'evah shall I do?"

Mabel crossed her arms and glared at her sister. Beside her, Beth let a giggle slip. When Mabel gave the twelve-year-old a side glance, she quickly went back to her cooking.

"Oh, come on, Mabel, I'm only teasin'! We all know you're the smart one of this bunch."

"Go wash up," Mabel ordered, ignoring Annie's compliment.

Annie mumbled under her breath and disappeared into the washroom.

"Please excuse my sister, Mister Morgan, she seems to have misplaced her manners this morning," Mabel said, taking a stack of dishes from the cabinet.

Breakfast was finished half an hour later. The children complained about having to do chores, something he suspected as a daily complaint. It reminded him of the days when the women around camp groaned about their endless chores. It rarely bothered him hearing them complain when some of the men and Miss O'Shea did nothing all day.

Not knowing what else to do that morning, he found himself outside on the back porch with a cigarette between his lips. As he went to strike a match, he paused and thought back to his last cigarette before he died. It sent him into a coughing fit that caused him to nearly pass out near a river. The urge to have nicotine in his body tugged at him, but he still hesitated. He could breathe just fine but worried the disease was still lurking in his lungs. He finally lit his cigarette, taking the risk. The moment he inhaled, he felt stress melting away. Not all, but enough to take the edge off.

Leaning against the rail, he watched two squirrels chase each other around an oak. Watching the display before him took him away from the events that unfolded in the last two days. He longed for his old journal at that moment, wishing to jot down his thoughts and feelings and sketch the world around him. He almost regretted giving it to Marston.

 _I guess I'll have to cut my losses and get a new journal… and a new horse._

He exhaled a puff of white smoke and watched as it dissolved into the air, taking away some of his worries.

Another cigarette was tempting but there was only half a pack.

"What are you doin' over here all by your lonesome?" Annie said, standing on the other side of the screen door. In a hushed tone, she asked, "Are those cigarettes? Can I bum one off of you?"

Arthur turned, a brow raised at her question. "Ain't you a bit young to be smokin'?"

"Oh please, I'm sure you were younger than I was when you started."

"Sorry, kid, but I don't want to face the wrath of your sister. I heard your argument this mornin'."

Annie stepped outside. "Oh, please, Mabel is harmless."

"Even so, you won't get any smokes from me."

She rolled her eyes and flopped onto the wicker chair behind her. Propping her boots up on the railing, she leaned back and withdrew a tin of mints from her pocket. Taking one into her mouth, she held out the tin for Arthur who declined them.

"See that? I offered you a mint after you refused to give me a cigarette," she said, stuffing the tin into her pocket.

"Still no."

"You're not as fun as I thought."

"Hate to be a disappointment, miss."

She rested her hands behind her head and studied him before saying: "But I bet you've seen a lot in your travels."

"More than what I've cared to."

"Got any good stories?"

"I probably do."

Inside, he heard ringing, followed by Mabel's soft voice answering with a "hello?". Annie looked behind her, toward the screen door before shrugging and focusing her attention back to Arthur.

"So, how many men have you killed?"

"Too many."

"I bet. You an outlaw?"

Arthur took a slow drag from his cigarette, wondering how he would answer her. She wasn't one to trust easily, and he wasn't sure if Pinkertons or any other authority knew of his death.

"Was," he answered.

The girl narrowed her eyes and nodded. "Yeah, I figured. You do look the type."

"And how do you feel about that?" he asked slowly.

She shrugged and ate another mint. "I'll admit, I don't know how to feel, but… you helped us so I guess you ain't all that bad and don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

Light footsteps patted from inside, moving swiftly across the kitchen floor. Annie froze and Arthur worried someone had heard their conversation. Mabel swung open the door, a rifle in her hands. She was here to run him off. It was understandable if she did.

"Annie, I just spoke with Missus Fischer on the phone. She said they spotted a mountain lion near her farm and it killed one of her foals last night. She wants to know if you'll track it down and kill it."

Annie slowly rose to her feet and stretched. "Sure, I could use some excitement."

"Annie, this is serious. If that thing gets ahold of you-"

"Relax, I'm taking Arthur and Clayton with me."

Molly poked her head out the door, her brown eyes wide with wonder. "Can I come? I wanna help!" she chirped.

"It's too dangerous," Annie said. "Mountain lions eat kids like you for breakfast."

"Annie!" Mabel scolded.

Annie laughed and took the rifle from her sister's hands. "Let's go, Arthur."

Glancing at Mabel, he waited for her disapproval. He figured she wouldn't want a stranger going with her little sister, but she sighed and said: "Keep an eye on her, please."

He nodded and followed Annie to the stables.

Shoving the doors open, light spilled into the stables, spooking the horses and Clayton. The boy glared at Annie but she ignored him and made her way to her draft.

"Missus Fischer needs help with killin' a cougar. You in?"

Setting his brush aside, Clayton agreed and grabbed a saddle.

"You'll need a horse too, Arthur." Walking across from her horse's stable, she touched the head of a gelded, steely gray quarter horse. It pawed at the ground and bobbed its head. "Storm should be perfect for you until you get your own. He can be stubborn, but he's strong and loyal. This guy shouldn't be any match for you. I saw how well you handle Regal." She thumbed in the cremello's direction.

Arthur ran his fingers through Storm's mane and patted his neck. "He's a fine horse."

"He belonged to my pa," Clayton said, saddling a light bay mare. "So take good care of him."

"I won't let anything happen to him."

"And this here is Big Macintosh but you two have already met," Annie said, saddling her horse. "Let's hurry up. I'm ichin' for an adventure."

They led the horses out and waited for Clayton to fetch his repeater. He returned minutes later with his Lancaster repeater and a Springfield rifle. Taking the Springfield, he held it out for Arthur.

"This was also my pa's."

"I won't let anything happen to your father's rifle or his horse."

Clayton nodded and mounted his stead.

With a spur to the sides, their horses galloped away from the house. All around him were vast fields of wheat and beyond that, forest and snow-capped mountains. The clear blue sky made everything stand out. A sudden longing to explore every inch of the land tugged at him. He missed the days of exploring without a care and with his horse beneath him. He missed looking up to a clear sky, watching the stars, and listening to the night peepers sing to the darkness, but most of all, he missed the gang and simpler times.

He wished this was a nightmare he could wake up from. Everything could go back to normal and he wouldn't be feeling this empty inside. Well, not as empty as he felt now. At least before Blackwater, things were simpler.

They took a left and almost crashed into another rider. Big Macintosh reared and whinnied. Annie shouted at another rider with threats and names. The man was unphased by the teenage girl and went on with his journey. She shook her head and urged Mac to keep going.

"Some people, I swear!"

"Don't let them get to you," Arthur replied.

They came to pasture soon after. They passed cattle and horses grazing and saw two men on horses with shotguns. Annie waved, and the men gave a nod in return. As they approached the house, they slowed their horses to a stop.

Annie dismounted and walked up the steps. The front door flung open, making her jump back. Mrs. Fischer was a tall slim woman with graying brown hair.

"I'm so glad you're here," the woman said in a thick German accent. "It came in the night and killed my best filly. Please find that beast and kill it!"

Annie tipped her hat. "Will do, ma'am." She hopped back onto her draft. "Alright boys, the pasture is this way." She pointed to the east and spurred Mac's sides.

Standing atop a hill, they scanned the area for any signs of a big cat. Then he saw it laying by the creek. A shape of sort, bloody and lifeless. As soon as he saw it, the trail lit up for him. He walked the horse closer to the creek with the teenagers not far behind him.

The horse halted before they got to the body. Arthur patted the gelding's neck and whispered it would be okay. He dismounted and hitched the horse to a tree and knelt down by the body.

Annie grimaced and said: "That must be one of the ranch hands."

The man's clothing was shredded and his body covered in deep gashes. Judging by the size of the prints around the body, Arthur would have guessed a male.

"You two want to continue? I can do this alone if you want," Arthur offered.

"Hell no! This is _my_ hunt," Annie replied. She followed the tracks up creek and stopped when she noticed they disappeared in the water. "Hey, fellas, the cat crossed the river!"

"I thought cats were supposed to hate water," Clayton said.

"Not this one."

They crossed the water and kept following the tracks. Tucked away in the brush, they found a dead calf. Its throat was ripped out, it's soft belly torn into.

"This one is still fresh, which means it's not far," Annie said. She gripped her rifle tighter.

"What have you gotten us into?" Clayton groaned.

"Quit being a coward."

"Both of you hush," Arthur said.

A deep low growl came from somewhere in the bush. Arthur's ears pricked at the noise to get a better idea of where it came from. It growled again. This one was a warning. Branches snapped behind them. They turned simultaneously as it drew closer.

Its golden pelt slipped out of the brush eight feet from them, head hanging low, eyes gleaming. It screamed and circled in closer. Arthur raised his gun, Annie did the same. Clayton, however, was frozen on the spot. He held his rifle close to his chest and tried inching back but couldn't. Arthur silently pleaded for the kid to move.

It charged right at Clayton. He jumped back and fumbled to get his rifle raised. Arthur and Annie both aimed and fired. Arthur's bullet entered the cat's skull, Annie's pierced its heart. It died instantly with its legs outstretched and mouth open in a silent scream. It flipped and tumbled, landing at Clayton's feet. He let out a sigh of relief and his knees bobbed.

Annie rushed to his side and gripped his shoulders. "Oh god, Clayton, are you alright?"

He blinked and knocked her hands away. "I'm fine!"

Turning away, he stormed back to his horse that ran off the moment they dismounted.

"We should go after him," Arthur suggested.

"Nah, he'll be fine. He gets like that sometimes."

She grabbed the cougar and lifted it over her with an ease that impressed Arthur. With a grunt, she tossed the beast onto her mount rump and tied it down. The fact that Mac never ran away during the ordeal was also impressive. As tough as Ginger was, she was known to throw him at the sight of a rattler.

Mrs. Fischer gasped at the size of the animal they brought in. She gripped the railing and fanned herself in an overly dramatic way. She reached into her purse and withdrew ten dollars for the three of them to split. By then Clayton left, deciding he had enough and wanted to go home.

"Now get that thing out of here! I don't want to look at it anymore!"

Once the Fischer farm was out of sight, Annie took out the ten dollars and divided it up, giving him five.

"This is more than my share, miss." Arthur held the money in his palm, feeling unworthy of it.

"You need it more than I do. 'Sides, I'll get more money from meat and hide," she said giving the carcass a pat. "Listen, I'm sorry I wasn't nice when we met. I just don't like strangers much."

"I understand the feeling, miss."

She smiled. "Yeah, I figured. Well, anyhow, I'm glad I've met you. Maybe with luck, Susanne and Mabel will adopt you." She laughed, though he could tell there was some seriousness behind her joke.

"I think I'm too much of a handful."

They both laughed.

"Still, I think you'll fit in with us."

It was strange, but he liked that idea. After years of traveling from east to west, north to south, he didn't mind having a permanent place to call his own. Even if his newfound life might not last long.

The questions of his revival still hung over him and knew he needed them answered soon. First thing in the morning, he'd ride out to Broken Pines. If the witch was real, she could help him… either that or she'd kill him and take what little he had.

He spurred the gelding to pick up the pace. Halfway back to the boarding house, they passed a young man riding a beautiful painted mare.

* * *

 **Chapter 4 was a pain to write. I almost scrapped the entire story because of my frustrations.**

 **Also, I omitted the twins from the story. I felt there were too many characters.**


	5. The Brew

**Song:** _Devil Woman ~_ Cliff Richards

* * *

 **The**

 **Yawning Grave**

 **Chapter Five:**

 **The Brew**

 _The buck moved slowly through the forest, its ears pricked as it searched for the source of the cries. It leapt forward, clearing a creek._

 _The wailing grew louder._

 _The coppery scent of blood grew stronger._

 _It saw the speckled pelt of a fawn lying motionless. It picked up speed in hopes it wasn't too late._

 _He was though. He looked down at the pitiful creature. Its eyes closed and mouth open as it wailed for its mother who lay next to it. The doe was stretched out, blood pooled underneath and large paw prints all around it._

 _He lowered his head to touch noses with the fawn but a dark shadow cast over them. Large hands lifted the youngling, it kicked and cried out for the buck. The buck raced after the large dark shape taking the yearling away but the faster he ran, the farther they became. Soon the shape was gone and his fawn's wailing ceased. The buck, however, kept running until his body gave out._

* * *

Arthur found himself awake before everyone else. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, waiting for someone outside his door to stir. After several minutes, he heard light footsteps. He'd guess it was Annie creeping passed his room and down the stairs. He learned last night that she liked going for morning rides on Big Macintosh and she asked him not to tell anyone. He agreed, knowing it wasn't his secret to tell.

When he couldn't stand the boredom any longer, he got up and dressed then walked over to the window. Looking over the misty yard below, he caught the silhouette of Annie riding away. She was certainly a handful, he thought, shaking his head.

Looking out towards the hills, where the wheat fields lay, he thought back to the eerie feeling he had when riding through the Broken Pines. The more he thought about those tall, black, and barren trees and the ravens, the worse he felt about it. Arthur rarely admitted to being afraid, and this was one of those few moments when he could say that he didn't want to ride out there. However, _if_ there was a chance that woman could help, he would not pass it up. He didn't believe in witches or warlocks or even magic, but if he could be brought back from the dead, then anything was possible.

He thought of asking someone to come with him, but he quickly dismissed the idea. This had to be something he needed to do on his own.

Soft footsteps came from behind his door followed by Mabel's muffled voice. Judging by her tone, she didn't sound too happy. One of the many things Dutch taught him was to stay out of an angry woman's way. Angry or not, though, he needed his answers.

He poked his head out of the room, listening for Mabel or Susanne. Slipping out of the room, he made his way down the hall towards the stairs. From behind he heard a door open and shut. Looking back, he saw Molly, sleepy-eyed and messy-haired.

"Good morning, Mister Morgan," she chirped.

"Good morning, Molly. Sleep well?"

She nodded. "Uh-huh, but then I woke up." She was visibly annoyed by this.

"I understand the frustration, miss," he said, laughing softly.

"I have chores but I don't want to do them."

"I felt the same way at your age."

"You're lucky you don't have to do them."

He patted her head. "You better go on. I don't wanna keep ya from your chores."

She pouted and turned away from him. As she bounded down the stairs Arthur laughed softly at the child. In a way, she reminded him of Jack.

He followed behind her as she skipped into the kitchen. Mabel stood in front of the stove, stirring a pot of oatmeal and Beth at the sink rinsing berries. By now his stomach would be begging for their cooking but this morning his uneasiness with the task ahead curbed his appetite.

"Mister Morgan is awake!" Molly loudly announced.

Seeing Arthur, Mabel's eyes brightened. "Good morning, Mister Morgan. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes."

"Good morning," Beth echoed in a much softer voice.

"Actually, miss, I was wonderin' if I could borrow Storm again. I need to check on somethin'."

"Oh… I see. When will you return?"

"As soon as I can."

"Well…"

"I promise I'll return. This is really important."

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I suppose it's fine," she answered hesitantly. "But please be careful out there Mister Morgan. The Fields gang is still running about."

"I think I can handle an outlaw or two."

"I don't doubt you, Mister Morgan."

"Thank you."

Half an hour later, Arthur and Storm left the property behind them. As he approached the town, he slowed the gelding to a walk. Passing through town, he kept his focus straight ahead and ignored the eyes that followed him.

He came to the general store where he stopped and hitched Storm. Stepping inside, the shopkeeper greeted him. Arthur greeted him back despite feeling socially exhausted. He still had the fifteen dollars that he looted off that Fields brother days ago. He purchased a map, a compass, a canteen, and a few apples for the horse. The man behind the counter tried making small talk, but after a few curt replies from Arthur, the man got the hint and gave up. He quickly left, jumped back onto the horse and continued on his journey.

Storm swiftly carried Arthur across the rolling hills. Everything became a blur of green and blue as Storm picked up speed. The gelding seemed to enjoy this more than Arthur. He let Storm race onward. If his energy was spent by the time they made it to the forest, then he was easier to control when spooked.

When the forest did come into sight, anxiousness pricked at his stomach. Storm began to slow to a trot. His ears pinned back, sensing Arthur's apprehension. Arthur forced this feeling away as they came to the entrance of Bone Forest. Storm stepped back a few paces and gave a grunt.

"Yer alright, boah," Arthur said, petting the steed's neck. Reaching into his satchel, he took out an apple and offered it to Storm. The silver gelding snatched it from his hand and gobbled it down. "There ya go. Now, come on, we can do this together."

Together they entered the forest. Above them ravens gathered, cawing and flapping their wings as they did so. Instinctively, Arthur reached for his hat, only to remember he'd given it to Marston. He felt vulnerable without it but there wasn't much he could do now.

A fox darted out in front of him, making Storm rear up. He was getting spooked again but Arthur pushed him to keep going.

Halfway through the woods, he came to a fork in the road. There were no signs of which way he was supposed to go. He concentrated on his surroundings, searching for any trails that clued him in on where the witch was located. After a few heartbeats, his focus began to waiver and he couldn't find any tracks.

 _Where could she be? Annie said she left the forest at times to shop in town. So where are the tracks?_

Before another thought could cross his mind, a flapping sounded above and a gust of wind swept over his head. He felt claws scrape his scalp and yelped in surprise when strands were plucked from his head. Looking up, he watched as a large raven landed on a branch above him. Its beak stretched wide and it let out a caw followed by deep clicking. Beneath its talons were strands of Arthur's hair.

Uneasiness crept into him again and he wondered if this bird was sending him a warning. It flapped its wings while continuing to make a racket. Leaping from the branch, it took flight and chose the path facing east. Was it wanting him to follow? With a kick to the sides, Storm raced in the direction of the raven. It was faster than it looked. It soared between the trees dodging branches and disappearing into the shadows briefly. When it reemerged, its feathers gleamed under the small streams of light shining through the trees. It made a sudden turn to the right, leading Arthur down a much smaller path. Branches whipped his face as he tried keeping up with the avian. He batted away smaller branches and ducked from the larger ones. Every nerve in Arthur pricked with anticipation, every hair stood on end. Something deep inside commanded him to keep going despite not wanting to go farther.

The deeper they traveled into the forest, the darker it became. Storm's eyes bulged from his head and he gave a whiny as his stamina depleted. White foam lathered around and underneath the saddle.

All around him, he could hear disembodied voices chanting inaudible things. Some of them sounded like Indians. He strained to hear what was being said, but between the drumming of hooves and his own heart pounding it was hard to tell.

"Come on, boy, just a bit farther!"

The words did little to encourage the gelding as they followed the raven. Maybe this was all a mistake and he ran this poor beast to the ground for nothing. Arthur silently cursed himself for what he was doing. This wasn't even his horse.

Storm's gait slowed and became uneven. Arthur pulled the reins, making Storm skid to a halt. The raven called out one last time before disappearing deeper into the forest. He dismounted, gave Storm a pat on the neck, and whispered an apology to the gelding. Arthur fed the horse an ear of corn, which helped restore some of his vigor.

Taking the reins, he walked with Storm down the dark and eerie path that lay before them. The voices all around them fading away.

* * *

They walked half an hour before Arthur felt it was okay to climb back onto Storm. He thought back to his behavior earlier and couldn't believe he rode his horse as hard as he did. All his life he felt it was dishonorable to mistreat an animal, and he'd done just that. The raven wasn't worth it and neither was this witch he sought after. It was as if an unknown force had taken control of him and he didn't like it.

He let Storm take it slow as the path became darker. In what little light he had, Arthur checked his pocket watch and noted it was almost noon. The Pikes were probably wondering where he went. They may have sent Annie after him and that was the last thing he needed.

Remembering he had not eaten, he took a pear from his satchel and bit into the fruit.

He was ready to give up and turn back around when he noticed the forest brightening. The trees became less clustered, and the feeling of dread that overcame him earlier dissolved.

In the distance, he saw a small cottage tucked away under two large oak trees. Arthur gave the rest of the pear to the gelding and picked up the pace. Five ravens perched on the trees. Seeing a human approaching, they began to caw. He cringed internally hearing those feathered bastards make their insufferable noises. The day was halfway over and he hated ravens more than he thought he could.

The cottage was small and round with a grass roof. White smoke billowed from the chimney pipe, from inside a woman muttered to herself and laughed hysterically. Arthur froze at the woman's laughter. It didn't sound like a stereotypical witch's cackle. It was soft and somewhat youthful sounding, but it was unsettling all the same.

Forcing down his fear, he slowly made his way to the door. He lifted his fist to knock when someone spoke in a deep voice.

"Hello!"

Arthur looked around, wondering where the voice came from.

"Um, hello?"

"Hello!" the voice repeated. "Hello, hello, hello, hello, hello!"

Looking up, he was greeted by a raven perched above the door.

"Hello!" it said.

It could speak! It took everything in Arthur to not turn and run for the horse.

"Hello! Hello! Gimme token."

He waved an arm at the bird in an attempt to frighten it away. It extended its wings and flapped, cawed, and then screeched.

"Gimme token! Gimme token!"

"I got a token for ya!" Arthur said, his hand reaching for his revolver.

The laughter from inside stopped.

"Gimme token! Gimme token!" the raven continued.

"Who's out there, Dickens?" the woman shouted from within.

He noticed her accent was Irish, maybe Scottish. Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference.

Shuffling came from within the cottage and the door flew open. He was expecting a haggard old woman, but instead, he was greeted by someone younger. She was middle-aged, slim, with long, wavy brown hair showing a few streaks of gray. Her face was soft and sound with a button nose. Her green dress was tight, hugging her curves, and it showed more cleavage than Karen Jones' outfits. Her dark green eyes narrowed at him as she sized him up.

" _You!"_ she hissed, pointing an accusing finger at him.

Arthur took a step back. "I… I'm sorry?"

"You should be sorry! You drank from my cauldron!"

"What are you talkin' about I-," he paused, suddenly remembering the time he went hunting in the forests of Ambarino, back when his tuberculosis had worsened. He came across a bushcraft shelter and dismounted. Stepping inside, he was greeted by a raven by a cauldron. Out of curiosity, he inspected the cauldron. Seeing the hot brew, he suddenly realized how cold he was and felt irritation building up in his throat and lungs. Taking out a tin cup, he scooped up some of the strange liquid and took a drink. Suddenly, the world around him blurred and felt as though he were spinning. He woke up several hours later, his head throbbing with pain. Two days later, he committed his final train robbery and died alone on the mountain. "Oh… I didn't know it was yours."

"That was meant for my brother! You ruin my spell and now he must spend the rest of his days as a cat."

He would have laughed had the circumstances been different.

She gave a frustrated sigh and pushed the door open. "Make this quick!"

He blinked at her.

"I assume you're here for a reason? Otherwise, you wouldn't have made the journey and disturbed me. Now, are you comin' in or what?"

He stepped inside, hoping he wouldn't regret it. The heavy door slammed shut behind him, making him fight back a flinch. The house darkened, making it hard to navigate through the living area. It didn't help that the place was cramped. His only light source was the fireplace. The woman walked passed him and lit an oil lamp for better lighting.

"Sit," she ordered.

Grabbing the closest chair, he did as she said.

She plucked a kettle off the fireplace, poured hot water into a small cup, and dropped a tea bag in. Without asking if he wanted any, she placed the cup in front of him. He must have made a face because she glared at him.

"If I wanted to poison you, I would have already. Now tell me why you're here."

"I don't know how to explain it."

"Then tell me as plainly as possible!" she answered sharply.

Ignoring her tone, he said, "I died and now I'm alive again. I don't know why and I want answers."

She nodded and took a seat across from him. "I'm guessing my potion had something to do with it."

"What would your… potion have to do with this?"

"When you drank my potion, you were near death correct? TB was literally choking the life out of you."

"How did you-"

She cut him off. "My potion was supposed to save my dying brother but after you drank from it, it was tainted and he died!"

He didn't believe in potions and spells, but hearing the pain in her voice caused guilt to creep in.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I didn't know."

"Of course not." Her tone still had an edge to it, though it was softer now.

"But… I still need to know how the potion ties into my revival."

Taking the kettle, she poured her own cup of tea. She looked passed him and out the window, her eyes fixated on something far away.

"When my brother, Binx, was dying from TB, I begged him to go live in New Austin. The warm and dry climate could have saved him but he wouldn't leave my side and at the time, I couldn't leave the mountains for reasons I won't say. I went searching for a cure, but there wasn't one. Then I thought of necromancy. It's a craft that's frowned upon, but I couldn't lose him."

"And that's where the brew comes in?"

She nodded. "It was to be given to him before he died and then I was to perform a ritual. Then you came along and drank my brew. I was furious when I found you passed out by the cauldron. I wanted to kill you then and there, but Binx stopped me. He said we should give you a trial and see if you're worthy of a second chance. So followed you around, watched you absolve debts, save folks from the wretched Murfrees, and help the Wapiti. I was disappointed to see you rob a train though."

"They deserved it."

"Did they?"

Not wanting to argue about the morality of Dutch's philosophy, he directed the conversation back to his revival.

"So, you performed the ritual on me?"

The thought made his skin crawl.

"I did. I found you on the mountain and followed the ritual by the book, but just as I was finishing the spell, I was interrupted by a woman."

He raised a brow. "A woman?" _Sadie… Abigail?_

"She saw me and flew into a rage and attacked me."

 _That might be Sadie…_

"She pinned me down, brought a knife to my head, and threatened to scalp me."

 _Wait, that sounds like…_ "This woman… she wouldn't happen to be an Indian, would she?"

The Raven Lady nodded. "She called me a devil for performing magic on you. I would have died had a large Indian man not stopped her. He gave me enough time to flee, and both warned me to never come back. The next day my brother died."

It was a surprise to learn that Mai and Charles came back. He figured they were long gone, but the more thought about it, it made sense. Both were loyal to the gang despite their distance towards the end. It did explain why it took him fifteen years to come back.

"I assumed the ritual didn't work but if you're here…"

"But what do I do now? What's my purpose?"

She shook her head. "I cannot answer that, only you can. What I want to know is, why question it? You have a second chance, so use it. Do the things you never got to do, be the good in the world! Life is whatever you want it to be."

Arthur considered her words, but they only helped a little. For twenty years, he only lived one way. To live another, felt foreign to him. It was all overwhelming and he couldn't stay anymore. He needed to feel the sun on him and be out in the open prairie, surrounded by wildflowers, and wildlife.

Opening his satchel, he took out five dollars and laid it on her table. She slid the money back.

"I don't want your money," she said. "Just live your life. That is your payment to me."

He slowly took the money back and placed it in his satchel. Standing, he thanked her for her hospitality and answers before turning to leave. As soon as he opened the door, a black cat darted between his feet and bounded off into the forest. He looked back at Widow Gibbons.

"Don't worry about Binx, he always comes back," she said.

Without another word, Arthur stepped out the door, hoping he'd never have to come back. Unhitching Storm, he quickly climbed on and raced out of the forest.

Half an hour later he found himself in the open, the sun warming him. Once he was far away from the forest, he suddenly felt foolish for feeling any sort of fear back there. He didn't know what came over him but he was glad it was over now. He slowed Storm to a walk, in no rush to get back to the Pike home.

The Raven Lady's words continued to echo in his mind. He wanted to believe he was free to live his own life, but something told him there was unfinished business he had to take care of. Now it was a matter of figuring out what that task could be.

A loud, harsh cough startled him out of his thoughts. Arthur stopped the horse and looked around. To his left, he spied a young man slumped over against a cottonwood tree. Beside him was a beautiful Perlino Andalusian. Its silver pelt and golden mane and tail glittered in the sun. Another cough shook the boy, sounding worse than the last. Out of curiosity and worry, Arthur reigned Storm in the direction of the kid. The closer he got, the worse the boy looked. He was ghostly pale and there were bags under his eyes. He didn't look any older than twenty. Seeing Arthur, he jumped to his feet but then stumbled back against the tree.

"Easy there, son. I ain't here to cause trouble," Arthur said as he dismounted.

"Is that so?" the boy rasped. "Then why are you here? Come to see a man die?"

"I was worried."

He scoffed and another cough racked his body. Arthur took a step back.

"What's wrong, old man, scared of a little TB?" he asked after his coughing fit subsided.

"Do you need medicine?"

He slid down the trunk and shut his eyes. "No, I'm done for, mister."

"Don't talk like that. Let me help you."

The boy waved him off. "I told you I'm done for."

"Where's your family?"

"Parents are dead and my wife kicked me out last year. Not even twenty and I went through a divorce." He laughed bitterly at the last sentence before coughing again. Blood sprinkled his hand. "Oh well. She'll be happier knowin' I'm gone. I joined a gang months ago. The bastard threw me out when I got sick."

The boy looked up at Arthur with his lackluster brown eyes. Arthur tried to think of something else to say.

"Can't you ride for the west? The warmer climate will help."

He shook his head. In a weak voice, he said, "I won't make it."

"How much time you got?"

"I won't see dusk, mister." There was a moment of silence between them before the boy spoke again. "Will you take Silver Dollar?" He raised a hand and pointed at the Andalusian. "He's a fine stallion."

"I'm sure he is, but I can't take your horse."

"Sure you can. I'm a goner and I want to make sure he finds a home. Keep him, sell him, give him away. Hell, I don't care, just give him a good home. He's young and strong. The perfect warhorse."

Arthur looked over the horse. Andalusians were one of his favorite breeds but it didn't feel right taking this one from its owner.

"Please, mister. Please take him. I don't want him all alone."

The kid's breathing became shallow and more ragged. His eyes closed again and Arthur knew it was the final time. Taking the reins, he led the Andalusian away from his owner. The stallion didn't put up a fight. It only looked back at the boy one last time.

"I'll make sure he's taken care of," Arthur said as he tied the reins to his saddle horn.

The boy only responded with a weak, "Go away."

Mounting up, Arthur made the long trip back to town with a new horse in tow.

* * *

 **Blackwater**

Curious eyes followed the handsome stranger as he rode into town. He was used to this, as he never stayed in place for very long.

Taking off his hat, he ran a hand through his dark blonde hair. It reminded him that he needed a wash.

He was once an Arizona ranger, now retired at a young age. He hated the job and hated what they made him do. Now he drifted from one town to the other, helping those in need and looking for a purpose in life. Despite his early retirement, he was still known as a ranger. Stories about him traveled across the west. Sometimes it kept him out of trouble but more often than not, it only caused it.

This time, he wasn't looking to be the town savior. No, this time, the Ranger had something personal to take care of. He stopped his dark bay Kladruper in front of the police station and dismounted. Once he fed her an apple, he entered the building.

The first person he encountered inside was an officer sitting behind his desk, leaned back in his chair. He looked up at the stranger and eyed him curiously.

"Can I help you?" the officer asked, leaning forward.

"I'm lookin' for an Edgar Ross. I was told he has the information that I need."

The officer raised a brow. "Oh, and what might that be?"

"That's between me and Ross. It's confidential, you see."

"You won't find him around here. For one, he's retired and two, he went missing a little over a week ago."

Frustration welled inside of him but he hid it well. "Then do you know where I can find John Marston?"

"Six feet under," the officer replied with a chuckle.

The officer's smug grin didn't sit well with the Ranger. "Does he have a next of kin?"

"Just his son. That wife of his died recently."

"So where is the son?"

He could already feel his patience wavering.

"Beecher's Hope, at least we think. No one's heard from Jack Marston since his ma got sick. I'm assuming you want directions?"

"Those would be helpful." _This man should be glad he's surrounded by his fellow peers._

"It's to the southeast of town. Follow the road like you're goin' towards Tall Trees you'll see the ranch on the left. Can't miss it."

"Thank you."

Seeing her rider, the Kladruper bobbed her head and stamped the ground. He wasn't gone for very long, but she was itching to get back on the road. Unhitching, the mare, he mounted up and rode for the Beecher's Hope.

Arriving at the ranch, he found himself disappointed once again. The property was desolate. He checked the barn, then looked through the windows of the house. Nothing. No humans, no animals, and no clues. Frustrated, he kicked a nearby bucket, sending it sailing against the side of the barn. Where could that Marston kid have gone off to?

The Ranger stormed back to the house. If what he needed was inside, he had to get to it. Without a second thought, he gave the door a hard kick. It burst open, slamming against the wall. He heard the shattering of glass and flinched. He hadn't meant for that to happen. It wasn't honorable, but he felt there wasn't any other choice.

Drawing his revolver, he slowly made his way inside. He kept an eye and an ear out for any signs of inhabitants. Looking to his right, he saw a child's room, a boy's to be more specific. He entered the room and looked over each poster that hung on the walls. It reminded him of his old room after his aunt and uncle took him in.

He opened the desk's drawers, going through each piece of paper he found. So far, nothing was of interest to him. It was mostly invoices, letters, and short stories the kid wrote. The Ranger did admit that Jack Marston had talent.

He moved on to the dresser in the corner and went through each drawer, but it seemed there was nothing of interest. Until he came to the bottom drawer. Tucked between a pair of folded pants, he found a slim lockbox. Sitting on the side of the bed, he took out a few lock picks and went to work. It was easy getting the lock open. Tossing it aside, the Ranger slowly lifted the lid. Inside, he found newspaper clippings about John Marston's death and Edgar Ross taking full credit for bringing down the Van der Linde gang. He found more clippings about Ross. One of them had the man's face scratched out with a pen. The last article was about the agent's retirement. He finally came across a letter with the name Bonnie MacFarlane printed at the right-hand corner. He gently pulled out the letter and inspected it.

 _Jack,_

 _What you're about to do is plain foolish. Do you understand me? Going after Edgar Ross won't bring back your father. Please, Jack, don't let John's sacrifice go in vain. Do something productive with your life. It's what he would have wanted._

 _Bonnie._

He folded the letter neatly before placing it back in its envelope. He thought back to what the officer told him. No one heard from Ross for a week, Jack was gone, and now here was this letter. He thought of turning it into the authorities; it was the right thing to do, but if Jack did kill Ross, then he owed the kid.

The Ranger placed everything back in its place, hoping that if Jack returned, he wouldn't notice. He moved on to the next room but it was the same as the last. After cleaning up his mess in the master bedroom, he felt defeated.

 _But I can't give up. If it's not here, then that means, Jack Marston has it. I have to find him._

He went back into Jack's room, took out the box, and reopened the letter. Taking out his notebook, he jotted down Bonnie's name and her address. Then he placed everything back again. If she didn't give him the answers, then he'd find someone who would.

Stepping back outside, he saw black clouds rolling in and a strong gust of wind hit him hard enough that he almost lost his brown stetson. He needed to move now if he wanted to make it to Armadillo before the rain hit.

He whistled for his horse, who came trotting up to him, eagerly awaiting their next adventure.

"Come on, Sienna," the Ranger said. "The sooner we find Jack Marston, the sooner I can reclaim what's rightfully mine."

* * *

 **Things are gettin' spicy, my dudes. Who is this friend of Mary-Beth's, who is this Ranger fellow, and will Jack and Arthur meet soon? Find out next time on Dragon Ball Z!... wait...**


End file.
